


Runner in the Night

by Exdraghunt



Series: Steel bodies, Human Hearts [3]
Category: Thomas the Tank Engine - All Media Types
Genre: Holoforms, M/M, temporary blinded character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-03-21 17:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 58,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3700761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exdraghunt/pseuds/Exdraghunt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Edward is badly injured in an accident, James must come to terms with his feelings for the blue engine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Though things at Tidmouth Sheds had changed over the course of the rather bizarre events of the last few months, mostly things had remained the same. Henry had broken down, as he sometimes did, and was spending the night at the Steamworks being repaired. This made Gordon rather irritable, but it pissed off James even more. Because if Henry was gone, someone else had to take the Flying Kipper. And that someone else was James. 

Every person, engine, and coach on the island knew how much James hated pulling trucks, but that wasn’t about to stop the red engine from reminding them all about it. Soon, it was clear that no one was getting any sleep at the sheds that night. Finally, one engine snapped. With a tired sigh, Edward moved out of his berth, “Since you hate trucks so much, James, I guess I’ll just take the Kipper. Goodnight.”

Everyone stared in shock as the old blue engine moved off of the turntable and puffed away towards the docks. Edward was the last engine anyone would expect to lose patience like that, but after a long day being kept up all night can get to anyone eventually. James fell silent as he watched the other engine leave. He hadn’t meant to make Edward angry. Aware of the glares from the other engines, James shifted back further into his berth and closed his eyes. He’d apologize to Edward in the morning. 

Out on his branchline, Edward rolled along the well-travelled path towards Brendam Docks. He was a bit irritated but for the most part he was just tired. He had really left to take the train for the sake of peace and quiet, both for himself and for those in the sheds. 

Porter and Cranky were very surprised indeed to see Edward chuff into the docks. They had been expecting James, the usual backup when Henry was gone. 

“Are you here to take the Kipper, Edward?” Porter asked, watching the older engine yawn with some concern, “What happened to James?”

“You know how he hates trucks.” Edward carefully backed up to the trucks, “I thought I’d take the train. If it doesn’t stop him complaining, at least I don’t have to listen to him for awhile.”

This was valid point, but Porter was still worried. The Flying Kipper was a long, rather heavy train, which is why it was normally pulled by Henry. Edward was so much older, and smaller than even James was. 

“I’ll be fine,” Edward reassured, correctly reading the expression on Porter’s face. He had long since gotten used the others doubting his abilities due to his age, though it was always a little annoying. One of the dock workers coupled him up, then gave his crew the thumbs up to let them knew they were ready to go. Edward strained to start the heavy train, face turning red from the effort, before pulling slowly out of the docks. 

Once he overcame the initial friction and got the train moving it was easy, and the rails hummed under Edward’s wheels as he made good time rolling along the main line towards Vicarstown. With each stop the train got lighter as fish were unloaded, making it easier to start and stop the trucks. The mainline was, for the most part, fairly level without any sharp curves or turns. On the long stretches between stations Edward was able to get up to a fairly good speed. He was running well, perhaps better than in years, and with no other engines out on the rails there was no reason to stop. 

Out in the Sodor countryside, scenery flew by in a black blur as he rushed along. The lamp on his buffer beam lit up the tracks immediately ahead, but the only thing illuminating the surrounding landscape was the occasional lit window from a distant farmer’s house. Neither Edward nor his crew could see that a tanker lorry carrying petrol had stalled at a crossing ahead until it was too late. 

Edward’s brakes squealed and spat sparks as he tried to stop, but it was a futile effort. The heavy trucks behind him pushed him onwards, and he was going far too fast to stop in such a short distance. 

Seeing that impact was inevitable, his crew jumped from the cab and hit the grassy ditch alongside the track rolling. Seconds later Edward slammed into the lorry, making contact just behind its cab. The large tanker ruptured with a tremendous explosion that sent an intense heat washing over the humans lying in the ditch and scorched the grass for yards. Large pieces of lorry were launched into the air, the cab going in one direction while the rear wheels departed in another. The force of the explosion knocked his front bogie from the rails, and the rest of the blue engine quickly followed. He was still moving fast and the trucks behind him forced Edward on as he tipped over onto his side, digging an enormous furrow into the ground before finally coming to a stop. Trucks piled on top of one another, momentum carrying them forward even after they had left the rails, sending fish and bits of trucks all over the trackside. 

An eerie silence settled over the scene, punctuated only by the soft hiss of escaping steam and the quiet murmuring of the dazed trucks. Charlie Sand, Edward’s driver, sat up in the trackside ditch clutching his arm and looked around for the fireman. “Sidney? Sidney!”

“Over here!” Sidney Hever was a few yards away, looking at his clearly broken leg forlornly, “I don’t know if I’ll be moving, though.” He attempted to lever himself upright, but the pain was too intense for him to remain on his feet. 

Charlie had, comparatively, gotten off easier. His right arm wouldn’t respond, which meant he had probably dislocated his shoulder, but he could still walk. “Here, lean on me. We’ve got to go check on our engine.”

Sidney leaned heavily on Charlie’s good shoulder, and together the two men made their way towards the crash site. Many of the trucks had settled on their sides, crates had been smashed and kipper lay in slippery piles. Edward’s tender had turned over as well, filling the ditch with water and coal. The engine himself was half buried in a great pile of earth, steam still hissing from his valves and cylinders as his driving wheels weakly attempted to turn. His leading bogie had nearly been torn from his frame and lay awkwardly on the ground. The wheels were packed with dirt from plowing through the ditch. 

Both men gasped when they saw Edward’s face, or at least what parts of it weren’t covered in earth. It looked like he had been burned, the grey metal of his face was pocked and bubbled from the explosion, and metal shrapnel from the lorry had left long cuts in his skin. A large piece of steel was still there, lodged in Edward’s left eye. Driver and fireman had to look away, unable to handle the sight without cringing. They were very glad that he was unconscious and not awake to feel his injuries. 

“You. You stay here with him. In case he wakes up.” Charlie gently lowered Sidney down to the ground. “I saw a farmhouse a little ways back, I’m going to see if I can get over there and use their phone.”

“Okay.” It wasn’t like Sidney had much of a choice. There was nothing to distract him from the throbbing pain in his leg as he sat there by the tracks and worried for his unconscious friend. Edward was the last of his kind, and Sidney had no idea how they would begin to repair him. He simply sat and prayed that the Fat Controller would be kind and not simply scrap the old engine.


	2. Chapter 2

At Tidmouth sheds, the engines were still dozing quietly in their berths. Fires had been lit, but it would take a little while yet for the steam to build up in their boilers. This was normally a quiet time, when the drivers went about their oiling tasks and firemen carefully coaxed the fires up. It wasn’t too much of a surprise when the Fat Controller pulled in, though he was a bit early. The sun wasn’t even properly up yet. 

Their first sign that something was wrong was the lack of a smile on the Fat Controller’s face. Instead, he appeared very serious indeed. 

“Edward has been in an accident.” Sir Topham Hatt announced in his booming voice. “James, I need you to go fetch the breakdown train and a flatbed. After Edward is settled on the flatbed, he will then need to be taken to the Steamworks for repair. Thomas, please report to the accident site when you are finished with your morning passenger train to take the trucks back to the Knapford yards.”

“Yes, sir.” Both engines chorused loyally. As the Fat Controller left, the sheds burst into chatter. Edward, in an accident? And one bad enough that he had not only derailed, but needed to be put onto a flatbed? That meant that he couldn’t roll on his own for some reason. Speculation flew, undercut by a current of concern. Because Edward was a very old engine, and hadn’t had a serious breakdown in many, many years. Not since he had broken a crank pin pulling a passenger train, and even then he had managed to make it back to the station under his own power. 

As everyone else gossiped, James was uncharacteristically silent. A dark feeling had settled in his boiler, one of guilt. It had been his job to pull the Kipper last night, not Edward’s. As he picked up Judy and Jerome from Knapford yards and headed for the accident site, worse and worse scenarios ran through his mind. But none of them compared to the actual accident site itself. 

James gasped as he caught sight of the derailed train, slowing down to a crawl as he positioned Jerome and Judy alongside on the center track. Trucks lay scattered alongside the track, many on their side. A few had even broken, side slats snapped and axles bent as they lay in the dirt. Flocks of crows and jackdaws had descended upon the spilled cargo of fish and were defying attempts by workmen to clean up the mess. It only served to add more of a morbid air to the scene. James was uncomfortably reminded of his first accident, except that this was much, much worse. The twisted remains of a lorry he had passed at the crossing told the tale of what had occurred.

After being uncoupled from Jerome and Judy, James positioned the flatbed onto the track nearest Edward. It gave him a good, close up view of the other engine’s damage. His lovely blue paint was nearly invisible under caked on dirt and scratches, some of it appeared to have been stripped off completely. Heavy chains were hooked onto Edward’s frame so that he could be pulled upright, entire chunks of earth coming up with him. Long scrapes ran the length of his frame where he had been resting against the ground, and much of his cab had been dented inwards. 

Securing the chains around Edward’s badly bent buffer beams was a careful process as the workmen tried not to damage the poor engine any further. Slowly, Jerome and Judy lifted Edward clear of the ditch he had been lying in and over the waiting flatbed. With a crash, the blue engine’s leading bogie finally gave up and separated from his frame. James felt faint and wished he could be anywhere else. 

 

The trip to the Steamworks was slow and quiet. They didn’t want to jostle or bounce Edward any more than necessary, so James’ crew kept him down to a comfortable trot. For once, James didn’t bother to complain about being forced to go so slowly. Instead, he was occupied with his view of the broken and bent gauges of Edward’s cab. All of the windows had been broken out, and glass still littered the backhead. This had been all his fault. 

The Sodor Steamworks was abuzz as they prepared for the delivery. Henry had been cleared for operation and sent out to work, freeing up space for their new guest. Still, none of them were quite prepared for the sheer amount of damage they were faced with when Edward was shunted in on his flatbed. 

“Ay dios mio,” Victor murmured, looking at the badly injured engine with wide eyes. 

“You can fix him, can’t you, Victor?” James asked softly as he positioned Edward under the lift that would take him off the flatbed. 

“I- Yes. Of course I can, my friend. Do not worry.” Victor didn’t believe his own words, though. This was the worst he had ever seen. 

The Fat Controller arrived not long afterwards, sending James off to other duties before coming back to see the damage firsthand. As he walked up, he could see the workman debating the best way to extract the piece of steel shrapnel from Edward’s eye. Wincing, he turned away. 

“How bad is it?” Sir Topham had no time for formalities as he spoke to the shop foreman. 

“I won’t lie sir. It’s bad. Very bad.” The foreman, a weathered older man named Hank, shook his head. “Worst I’ve seen in a long time.”

“Can he be fixed?” This was Sir Topham’s primary concern. Behind them, an awful wet sound made all in the shop cringe as the shrapnel was finally pulled free. 

“It. It’s gonna take awhile. We’ll have to fabricate all the parts ourselves.” The two men turned to look at Edward again. A thick, black liquid ran from the corner of his injured eye and down his face, tears formed from boiler water and coal dust. “His face will be much harder. We can’t fabricate new parts for that, I don’t know if he’ll ever heal completely.”

An engine’s face couldn’t simply be repaired or replaced like other parts of their body. Instead, injuries healed almost like a human’s would. Young engines could heal damage fairly quickly, but as they aged the process slowed. Considering Edward’s age and the extensive nature of the damage, it could potentially take months to heal. 

This was the worst accident that Sodor had seen in many years. The last incident on a similar scale had been Henry’s own crash with the Kipper a few decades previous. Then, Henry had been relatively young and shining new Stanier Black Fives were still rolling out of the works at Crewe. Getting the green engine rebuilt into a similar model had been a fairly simple affair. But time had passed. The Furness K2 Larger Seagull hadn’t been made in many years, and no other engines of that class besides Edward still existed. The works at Crewe no longer made steam locomotives. On the mainland, at least, the era of steam had ended. 

“I want Edward repaired and operational again.” Sir Topham ordered, making a decision. This wouldn’t be easy, or cheap, but the blue engine was one of his most loyal, hard workers. Who never complained but simply went about his duties with a quiet determination. Another railway would have simply scrapped the out of date, badly damaged steamer, but not on Sodor. 

“Yes sir,” The foreman nodded and turned away to get the work started. 

News spread fast on the Island of Sodor, especially among the engines and rolling stock of the railway. Within hours, word of Edward’s accident had made its way to every branch line and siding on the island. The actual accuracy of reports varied wildly, as James was the only engine who had actually seen Edward since the accident and he wasn’t saying much. When pressed, the red engine could only offer that is was “bad, really bad.” Normally, James thrived on attention. Now, he just wanted to get away. He didn’t want to remember the crumpled body of his friend any longer. 

That night at the sheds, the engines chatted and gossiped. Several of them had tried to go to the Steamworks to see Edward, only to be turned away by Victor who said he “wasn’t ready to see visitors yet.” This was worrying, Victor rarely turned away engines coming to see a friend. 

Thomas was describing the accident site to the others in hushed tones. He had arrived after Edward had been taken away, but had seen enough to provide a fairly good description. “There was a lorry carrying fuel stalled at the crossing. I hear it exploded, then sent him off the rails. The trucks were everywhere!”

James shut his eyes tightly in his stall, wishing he had a way to block out Thomas’ voice. 

“I’m sorry,” Henry offered softly, voice sad. “If I hadn’t been away, this wouldn’t have happened.”

Gordon snorted, not about to let his partner take the blame for the accident. “It isn’t your fault Henry. You can’t help breaking down. James was supposed to take the train, but-“

He trailed off, and everyone in the sheds looked over at James’ berth. James had been meant to take the Flying Kipper, and if he hadn’t been sitting and complaining Edward wouldn’t have been out at night at all. Wouldn’t be sitting at the Steamworks unconscious and badly injured. However, James was no longer in his berth. His body was there, but it was silent and empty. James had moved over to his human form and slipped out the door to get away from the stares of the others.


	3. Chapter 3

Over the course of the next several weeks, the crew at the Steamworks put in overtime as they worked on Edward. Slowly, he was starting to look a little more like an engine again. The dirt and mud had all been cleared off, and the dents pulled out. His leading wheels had been re-attached, and he had received a brand new front buffer beam and splashers. Even his face was showing signs of healing. The thing that had the foreman the most worried, though, was his eyes. 

“The one the shrapnel pierced is a complete loss,” The foreman explained to the Fat Controller, who had stopped by to check in and get an update. “He may be able to see a little bit out of it, but there’s nothing we can do for it.”

“And the other?”

“Well, we aren’t sure. That side of his face is badly burned, and the light from the explosion seems to have seared his cornea. Or, the engine equivalent anyway. It appears to be healing a little, but only very slowly.”

Edward sat silently in the berth, undisturbed by the loud machinery of the works. Heavy bandages covered much of his face, including his eyes. It was impossible to tell if he was aware or not. 

“Has he woken up?” Sir Topham asked as they walked closer, examining the new work. 

“A few times. But he never seems aware, or says anything coherent.”

That wasn’t too much of a surprise. There was no kind of anesthetic or painkiller for engines, so their bodies seemed to compensate by keeping them unconscious while work was being done. Still, Sir Topham placed a hand on Edward’s buffer beam and spoke softly to him. “Edward? Can you hear me?”

 

Edward slowly struggled towards consciousness. His whole body ached, a sharp pain in his joints of a kind he’d never felt before. He wanted to slip back into the cool darkness where nothing hurt, but the sound of his owner’s voice compelled him to answer. “Sir?” His voice was quiet and raspy from disuse. Edward tried to open his eyes, but found that he couldn’t. Something was covering them, preventing him from seeing where he was. All he knew was that he was sitting on a set of rails with the sound of heavy machinery and humans chatting all around. “Where am I?”

“Edward. Do you remember what happened?” The Fat Controller felt a little strange, addressing his engine from this angle. He normally found a crate or platform to stand on, trying to keep some sense of authority. But it didn’t really matter when the engine couldn’t see him anyway.

“I remember-“ Edward’s brow furrowed as he thought, the movement pulling at his damaged face in a way that made him hiss in pain. “I took out the Kipper for James. And there was a lorry. I remember seeing a very bright light, then. Nothing. Sir. Where am I? Why can’t I see?”

“You are at the Steamworks, Edward. You can’t see because both of your eyes were injured, they’ve been bandaged so that they can heal.” Sir Topham felt his heart tear a little at the confused, hurt voice of his engine. 

“I’m sorry sir,” Edward whispered, feeling an intense guilt at having failed his job of delivering the train. 

“It isn’t your fault, Edward. It was an accident. Now go back to sleep.”

Edward slipped back into slumber and the Fat Controller stepped away with a sigh. It was always so hard to see one of his engines in pain. 

A few days later Charlie and Sidney came into the Steamworks, hoping to visit Edward now that he was talking to people. Sidney had his leg in a cast up to his hip and was hopping with crutches, but all of his concern was reserved for his engine. 

In the back of the Steamworks, Edward was awake as he sat in his berth and listened to the workers fabricating a new set of connecting rods. Inside his firebox, a cleaner was inspecting his tubes and scraping out clinker. They were going to try and get up steam later in the day, to test his repairs. 

The unusual sound of crutches against the stone floor caught his attention and Edward frowned, “Hello? Who’s there?”

“Edward! It’s me, Sidney.” The fireman limped over as quickly as he could, running a reassuring hand across the engine’s front buffer beam. 

“And me, Charlie. We’ve come to see how you’re getting on.” The driver followed close on the heels of the other man, feeling it was his duty to make sure Sidney stayed upright. 

“Driver? Fireman?” Edward’s mouth, the only part of his face they could see, turned up in a small smile. “You’re both okay? You weren’t hurt in the crash? I thought I heard crutches.”

“Nothing we can’t handle. Only a bit of trouble with my leg, it’ll be right as rain in another week or so.” Sidney reassured, a bit glad that the engine couldn’t see the cast that encased his entire leg. “Humans are tough, you can’t get rid of us that easily.”

“That’s good.” Edward winced uncomfortably at the sound of a loud bang from inside his firebox. Like most engines, he hated the feeling of having someone –inside him- scraping at his innards. “They’re getting ready to fire me up today.”

“That’s great!” Charlie did his best to keep his voice enthusiastic. “You’ll be back to your branch line in no time. Maybe they’ll even have fixed that squeak in your right cylinder.”

“Haha, if only.” Edward grew quiet again. “But I still can’t see. I won’t be of much use.”

“You’ll get those bandages off soon enough, I’m sure.”

“We are actually going to take one eyepatch off today.” Victor chuffed over, carrying a small truck of parts and the works foreman. “Don’t worry, my friend. We will have you up and running again in no time.”

“Now, this is your bad eye.” The foreman said as he and another worker carefully peeled off the bandage covering Edward’s left eye. The one that the shrapnel had pierced. “You probably won’t be able to see very much out of it. But it hasn’t shown any signs of further healing, so there’s no reason to keep it covered up.”

As the bandage was removed, Edward blinked to try and clear his vision. His crew both gasped at the sight. Before, Edward’s pupil had been the same friendly, shining black as every other engine on the island. Now, it was an icy blue, almost white color. A small scar ran from just above his eye down to the outside corner, a reminder from the piece of steel that had done the damage.

“What’s wrong?” Edward squinted against the sudden light hitting his retina, but the blurry shapes in front of him didn’t clear up. He could see a reddish blob off to one side, vaguely engine shaped, and assumed it must be Victor. The humans in front of him were harder to make out, their dark clothing blending with the grey floors and walls of the Steamworks. 

“Nothing’s wrong, old boy.” Charlie cleared his throat, forcing himself to stay positive. “So how’s the eye? Can you see anything?”

“Only a little.” It was clear Edward was frustrated. “Everything is very blurry. I can tell that Victor is over there. And. I think that’s you in front of me?”

Charlie waved his hand high up in front of the engine’s face, “Can you see that?”

“Yes, I can!” The movement stood out against a dark background, and Edward was able to make out the human-shaped body that the arm attached to. “And, Sidney is standing next to you?” The fireman was a little easier to distinguish, there was something stark white on the man’s lower body that stood out sharply. “What is that on your leg?”

“Just a cast, I’ll have it off next week. No big deal.” 

Workmen were bustling over, carrying large sheets of paper with something resembling a blown-up version of human vision tests on them. The two men took that as their sign to leave. 

“We’ll come back to see you soon, I promise.” Charlie swore. 

“Hope you feel better soon.” Sidney waved, and they both left with heavy hearts from what they had seen. 

 

That evening, the Fat Controller returned to the works to check up on progress. “How is he doing, Hank?” He and the other man stood by Edward’s berth, far enough away that they wouldn’t wake the sleeping engine. 

“Well, we raised up steam earlier today. He managed to get up to his full operating pressure with no issues. We’ve got him scheduled to go in for new paint tomorrow.” The work had been going surprisingly well. Fortunately, the other engines of the island appeared to be behaving for once and much of the Steamworks crew had been able to focus on Edward. There were some more minor things to do, but most of the major work had been completed.

That, at least, was a great relief. “And, his face?” Sir Topham could see that some of the bandaging had been removed, but the right side of the engine’s face was still covered. 

Hank frowned. “Well, the left eye was beyond our ability to save. He has a little vision out of it, but not much. He can distinguish shapes and colors of objects up to several yards away, but only against contrasting backgrounds. No light colors against bright backgrounds or dark colors against dim backgrounds. Things like letters or distinguishing faces are a complete loss.”

“And the other eye?”

“Well. . .” Hank rubbed the back of his neck. These kinds of things were far from an exact science, and it was pretty much all conjecture from here. “Hard to tell at this point. It’s still healing so it’s doing better than his left eye. We don’t want to expose it to any light until it’s completely better, so we haven’t done any vision tests or anything. He might get all his vision back, he might not. At the current rate of healing, it’ll probably be a couple more months before we can tell.”

“So he’ll have to keep the eye covered for another two months at least?” Sir Topham sighed. He had been afraid of that. The issue nagged at him even after he had left and was back in his office at Knapford. On the deck in front of him lay the timetables and scheduled trains for the next day, waiting for him to draw up the assignment roster for who would take what. Edward’s absence meant that the other engines were being forced to work harder to pick up the slack. BoCo was handling the Brendam branch line, but the diesel had his own duties as well. The Fat Controller thanked the powers that be that it was a slow time and that this hadn’t occurred during peak tourist season. 

Every engine was handling the extra workload fairly well, but there was one that seemed to have taken the dedication to a new level. Surprisingly, that engine was James. The red engine was taking most of Edward’s trucks for him, as the island’s other small mixed-traffic engine, and yet not one complaint had been heard. In fact, he hadn’t been speaking much at all. Only quiet “yes sirs” as he received orders. No boasts about his paint or moaning about extra duties. The other day, Sir Topham had even seen James with dust and mud streaked across his paint. He had been so worried about Edward, he hadn’t noticed the concerning change in one of his other engines until now. 

Resolving to speak to James’ crew in the morning, Sir Topham tiredly turned in for the night.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, James’ driver Rick gamely tried to strike up conversation with his engine as he did his morning oiling. James, however, remained silent. It was like something had sucked all the personality out of the red engine, and Rick often caught him staring blankly at nothing with a sorrowful look on his face. 

“Come on, James. What’s up with you? Please talk to me.” Rick reached up and laid a hand on James’ cheek. The engine looked at his driver, face tightening as he closed his eyes. A tear slipped down his cheek. But still, he didn’t speak. 

During his break, Rick had to sit with the Fat Controller with a heavy heart. “I’m worried about him, sir. He’s not himself. Never complains or makes sassy remarks. Heck, he’s mostly stopped talking at all. Ever since Edward had his accident, James just hasn’t been the same.”

“Since the accident?” This had gone back that far? Sir Topham frowned. Maybe he shouldn’t have sent James to take Edward from the accident site. “I didn’t realize that it would affect him so badly. Hopefully, he’ll improve when Edward returns.” Otherwise, Sir Topham wasn’t sure what he could do. They didn’t have psychiatrists for steam engines, and he certainly wasn’t a mental health specialist. Edward would be going out for a running test in a few days, maybe he would send James to accompany the other engine. “Thank you Rick. I’m going to reschedule the next few days to put James on passenger runs. Maybe that will cheer him up a bit.”

“Yes sir.”

With one problem addressed, the Fat Controller moved on to the next task on his to-do list for the day and headed for the Steamworks. Edward’s repairs had finally been finished and he wanted to talk with the engine about the next few months. 

In the back of the Steamworks, Edward sat with his paint gleaming and metal polished. There wasn’t a single speck of dust or dent to mar his paint, and he looked almost as good as the day he had been built. Fresh bandages covered the right side of his face, securely affixed with medical tape to cover his eye and remaining burns. 

Though he was awake and aware, Edward made no acknowledgement of Sir Topham as the man walked back to see him. He was only a few feet from the engine when Edward finally noticed a blur of movement. “Hello? Who’s there?” He asked uncertainly. The workmen had all gotten into the habit of speaking when the approached, to forewarn the nearly blind engine before they touched him. 

“Good morning, Edward.” Sir Topham stopped, trying to make sure he was in the engine’s line of vision.

“Oh! Good morning, sir.” Edward responded, cheeks coloring a bit red. He couldn’t believe he had failed to see his owner walking towards him. 

“How are you feeling?”

“As good as new and ready to get back to work, sir.” He was getting dreadfully bored sitting in the Steamworks doing nothing. 

Sit Topham sighed, he had been afraid of that. All the engines had a drive to work and be useful, but the older engines like Edward were a bit more driven than most. He didn’t want to have to keep Edward in the shed, knowing such a thing would be akin to torture for the poor engine. In the younger years of the railway Edward had been declared a surplus engine as newer, more powerful ones arrived on the island, used only as a backup when others weren’t available. This had culminated in Edward being left in the shed for months on end, and even years later he knew that the engine feared having it happen again. 

However, there was also the fact that Edward was nearly blind and would be for another two months at least. It just wasn’t safe to send a blind engine out on the rails, unable to see signals or obstructions on the rail. The engine crews could only see so much from back in the cab. 

“Edward, you know it will be another couple months before your bandages are removed.” He reminded the engine sternly, wanting to impress just how serious the situation was. 

“Yes, sir. I know.” Those were the words Edward dreaded hearing. His face fell as he looked down at the floor. Next he would be told that he had to stay in the shed, no longer useful or needed. 

Whatever he was going to say was lost as Sir Topham looked at the absolutely heartbroken engine. “We’ll. We’ll see how your test run goes tomorrow, okay Edward? Then you can move back to Tidmouth sheds, I know the others miss you.”

“Yes sir. Thank you sir.” Edward managed to summon a small smile, but he was still worried. He had been at the Steamworks for two months, the longest he had ever been away from his work. What if they didn’t need him anymore? He was a permanently damaged engine, and even the works foreman didn’t know if Edward would be able to get back the vision in his other eye or not. How could he run his branch line if he couldn’t see? It would probably have to be given to BoCo to run, and he would be going back to the Knapford Shunting yards. If he was given any work to do at all and not just relegated to being a museum display for the rest of his life. 

These were the thoughts that haunted Edward as he fell into an uneasy sleep. 

In Tidmouth Sheds, another engine was being kept awake by their thoughts as well. James had been told that the next morning he was going to be accompanying Edward on the blue engine’s test run, and he was terrified. The knowledge that he had caused Edward’s accident had dogged his every thought over the last several weeks, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to face the blue engine. James had completely convinced himself that everyone else blamed him, leading him to avoid the other engines. But to have to be with Edward himself, the older engine probably hated him. Every time James closed his eyes, all he could see was the accident site and Edward’s broken body. It kept him awake all night.


	5. Chapter 5

Edward felt a confusing mix of excitement and trepidation as his crew worked to raise him up to steam pressure. Because he was unbearably excited to get out on the rails and running again, but there was also the terrible fear that something would go wrong and he would be told he wasn’t allowed to work anymore. 

The sound of another steam engine pulled Edward from his thoughts, and he looked around to see who was approaching. The engine sounded larger than Victor, and the small Cuban engine always announced his approach vocally before coming close. A large, red shape was visible in the entrance to the works, and moments later a familiar whistle cemented the identity of the newcomer. “James! It’s good to see you.”

James was surprised when Edward’s face broke into a genuine smile, but that was overshadowed by the stabbing guilt when he saw the bandages still covering part of the blue engine’s face. The worst, though, was seeing his blue, scarred eye. His stupid antics had done that, and now Edward would never be able to see out one of his eyes ever again. 

A few minutes later, Edward’s crew announced that they were ready to go. James got himself turned around, then set out on the mainline ahead of Edward. He was to make sure the line was clear and watch for any danger that the blue engine might not be able to see. And, of course, as backup in case Edward had any trouble or broke down. 

Edward, meanwhile, was overjoyed to be turning his wheels again. The scenery might be just a colorful blur, but he knew the rails of Sodor better than the back of his own buffer beam. Every bend or incline in the track was etched into his mind, and he knew them purely through feel. He was running beautifully, better than in ages, and the rebuild had indeed fixed the squeak in his right cylinder. 

“You’re doing great, Edward!” Charlie leaned out and patted Edward’s cab reassuringly. The rebuild had done wonders, and the old blue engine was running like he had when he was new. 

Up ahead, James saw a red signal and slowed down to a stop, giving his whistle a toot as warning to Edward behind him. The blue engine’s crew looked ahead at the sound of the whistle and applied the brakes, slowing gradually to a halt behind the other engine. 

“Why are we stopping?” Edward asked with some confusion. Then he noticed that the red blob that was James’ tender was getting closer and realized where they were on the track. There was a signal box up ahead and clearly it was red. He felt the tracks shake as another train entered from a branch line, though he couldn’t see well enough to tell who it was. Finally, James blew his whistle again to alert them he was moving and they continued on. 

The two took the better part of an hour to make a large loop and ended up back at the Steamworks where they had started. Edward was feeling greatly buoyed by the run, getting out and moving had really helped his mood. At Crovan’s Gate station they had seen Skarloey and Rheneas, who had both expressed their joy at seeing him repaired and running once more. 

As workers ran over to inspect Edward after his test run, James sighed and settled down. He had no other jobs to do that day, which he thought was very unusual indeed. But, the Fat Controller had instructed that he was to stay with Edward for the day. 

“So. How is everyone doing?” Edward asked, trying to strike up conversation with the red engine. James had been very quiet the entire trip, and it was starting to worry him. He might not be able to see James’ face, but he knew something was wrong. 

“They’re doing okay, I guess.” James managed after a long pause. “Everyone will be happy to have you back.” 

“I can’t wait to see everyone again. Victor and Kevin are lovely company, but I miss everyone else.” There was no answer from James. Edward frowned and tried again. “Thank you for coming to see me, James.”

“O-of course.” This only confused James more. He had been so sure that Edward would hate him, but instead the blue engine was being friendly and kind. He didn’t know what to make of it. 

The two fell silent again, absorbed in their thoughts until the Fat Controller arrived to see how the test run had gone. This time, the man made sure to announce his presence before walking over to speak with Edward. 

“Edward, I hear your test run went well. That’s good, very good.” 

“Thank you, sir.” A happy smile spread across Edward’s face. To an engine, there was nothing better than the praise of one’s owner. 

“I’m letting you go back to Tidmouth Sheds tonight, and will have some jobs for you starting in the morning. But, first, we have to lay down some rules.” Sir Topham didn’t want to have to do this, but he didn’t need any more accidents on his railway. “You are not to travel at night, for any reason. You will also not travel on the mainline without an escort engine. And, I’m sorry, but you will not be pulling any passenger trains until your bandages are removed.”

Though he didn’t like it, Edward understood why the Fat Controller was being so strict. He would simply have to come to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t be able to do the duties he used to be able to, and be happy that he was being given work at all. Hopefully, he would get his bandages off soon enough and be able to go back to his normal jobs. “Yes sir. I understand.”

“There’s a good engine.” He smiled and turned to James. “Alright, James. I need you to take Edward back to Tidmouth. Go slowly, and watch out for trouble. This is your last job for the day.”

James headed out first, with Edward following close behind him. It was early afternoon, the sun high in the sky making it a little easier for Edward to see what was around him. He was very proud of himself when he managed to make out a green signal as they rolled past, the white signal arm standing out against the countryside. 

Occasionally other engines rolled by on the other tracks, always greeting them with a cheery “peep peep” of their whistle and a “Hello, Edward! It’s good to see you!” They were usually going too fast for Edward to distinguish their features, but the unique whistles and voices of his friends always betrayed their identity. By the time the two engines had reached Tidmouth sheds, the news that Edward was back and running had spread to every corner of the island. So, too, had word of his remaining injuries. 

“Oh, it’s good to be home.” Edward smiled as he backed into one of the berths at Tidmouth sheds. It would be nice to hear the familiar noises of the other engines as he slept at night again. “Has someone else been staying in my berth while I’ve been gone?”

“Duck’s been here.” James mentioned reluctantly. He knew the green tank engine didn’t like him much, and felt as though every time he saw Duck the smaller engine was glaring at him. 

“Well, I hope he doesn’t mind giving the space back.” Edward wasn’t quite sure what to do with this new quiet, unsociable James. The two lapsed into silence once more as their crews left. Eventually, Edward slipped off into a light doze and didn’t wake up until Gordon returned to the sheds after his last run with the express. By that time, night had truly fallen and the dim lighting of the sheds made it difficult to see even for the fully sighted engines. 

“Edward!” Gordon’s bass voice boomed around the sheds as the large blue engine slowly spun on the turn table. “It’s good to have you back!”

Nothing could rouse a sleeping engine quite like Gordon could. Edward jerked awake, then yawned. “Hello, Gordon. Not had any troubles with your hill while I’ve been gone, have you?”

“Hmph.” Gordon backed into one of the center berths. “I’ll have you know I didn’t get stuck once on the hill while you were gone.”

“Well that’s good. But you know, I’ll always be your back engine when you need it.” It was nice to enjoy a bit of friendly teasing again. Edward knew Gordon was mostly a bunch of bluster, but he still occasionally needed to be knocked down a peg when he got too big for his own buffers.

Gordon rolled his eyes, but couldn’t find it in him to make any more rude remarks. He actually had greatly missed the old engine, they all had. “Of course.”

Percy was the next to return, and as usual his mouth was running far in advance of his brain. Edward humored the little green tank engine’s questions with his normal patience, but faltered when the conversation turned towards the details of his accident. He could remember it, the searing light and heat of the explosion, the pain as the shard of steel pierced his eye, the sheer helplessness as his wheels left the rail and ploughed through the dirt. 

“Percy, that’s enough.” Gordon’s voice cut through Edward’s memories and brought him sharply back to the present. 

“Are you alright, Edward?” Henry asked quietly. Edward had been so caught up that he hadn’t even noticed the green tender engine back into the spot between himself and Gordon. 

“Yes. I’m fine.” Maybe if he said it often enough, he’d believe it. Edward didn’t often think about the accident, except sometimes late at night when there was nothing else to occupy his mind. He supposed he should be thankful that he had at least passed out not long after leaving the rails. 

“It’s okay if you still get caught up remembering it.” Henry could tell the other engine was lying, but understood why. “I still have nightmares about my crash with the Kipper sometimes. And, if you ever just want to talk. Well, I’m a good listener.”

“Thank you, Henry.”

Any further conversation between the two tender engines was halted when Thomas arrived at the sheds. The little blue tank engine seemed to have a knack for bringing noise and excitement with him wherever he went, and soon the sheds were full of happy, excited chatter. It was the best night’s sleep Edward had had in months.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Edward had to wait in the sheds until the sun had fully risen. His vision was worst when he first awoke, so this gave his eye time to adjust. He also, of course, was not allowed to travel in the dark. 

As he had feared, the Fat Controller had assigned him to work in the Knapford Shunting yards for the day. Little Percy escorted him to Knapford, then departed to do his own work. Following Percy was harder than following James, the little green tank engine sometimes blended with the trackside scenery. 

Work in the Knapford Shunting yards was always tedious and boring. Edward didn’t really need to see to work, and he never got moving faster than a crawl as he shifted around trucks and coaches for the other engines. He hadn’t done this work in decades, not since the Fat Controller had given him his branch line, but it wasn’t the sort of thing one forgot how to do. The trucks all whined and jeered, making fun of his bandages and his age and anything else they could think of. Edward steadfastly ignored them, not wanting to give them any more fodder for their teasing. 

The one advantage to working in the yards was that he got to chat with other engines as they rolled through, both friends and passing acquaintances. Edward had just finished assembling a long goods train for Henry when the sound of a diesel air horn echoed through the yards. The blue engine frowned, looking around to try and make out who it was. A steam engine’s whistle was unique, each one producing a different pitch that made it easy to tell engines apart by the sound. But the horn of a diesel engine wasn’t so personal and most sounded very similar to each other. 

All Edward could see was a green, square shape, which wasn’t much help, but then the engine spoke and a smile broke out across Edward’s face. 

“Hello, Edward! It’s good to see you, how have you been doing?”

“BoCo! It’s so great to hear your voice. I haven’t been too bad.” Edward backed up to some oil trucks that the diesel was set to take. “It will be a while yet before I can get my bandages off, though, so I’m here in the yards. How is the branch line?”

“I’ve been managing it.” BoCo sighed, “But it’s hard without you, I’ll be glad to have you back. I don’t know how you deal with Bill and Ben, I’m about ready to shunt those two chuckleheads off a siding and into the bay.”

Just the thought was enough to make Edward laugh. The twins had played a great prank on BoCo when he had first arrived on the island, and the poor diesel had never quite recovered from it. 

Seeing his good friend buoyed Edward’s spirits for the rest of the day as he worked tirelessly shifting the endless lines of rolling stock. But as the week stretched on, Edward felt less and less hopeful. There was little rest to be had at the yards, and at the end of the day he was always tired and sore. The trucks had started singing songs about him, which grated on his nerves, and all the grey scenery blended together into one grey blur. He wanted to get back out onto the rails, but couldn’t without an escort and had to stay at slow speeds. Maybe he should be preserved and put in a museum, it might be the only thing he was really good for anymore. 

He was also worried about James, who still wasn’t speaking to him or anyone else. Edward wanted to help, but just didn’t know how. 

One night at the sheds, nostalgia seemed to have affected everyone and conversation had turned to reminiscing old events and accidents. Somehow, Edward’s rescue of a runaway James had gotten brought up. It hadn’t been amusing at the time, but now the memory made Edward smile. He had been in ill repair and running poorly at that time in his life, but had still managed to catch up to a runaway James and brought him safely to a halt. The incident had won him his branch line and a complete overhaul. 

“Was this before or after the bootlace thing?” Percy asked innocently, causing Gordon to roar with laughter again. 

“Oh god, the bootlace incident. I had almost forgotten about that, we teased James for weeks over it. Bumped the coaches so hard he put a hole in one of the brake hoses and it had to be patched with a passenger’s bootlace. For an engine who boasts about his ability to pull coaches, that was certainly embarrassing.”

Edward just sighed and listened. He was used to hearing the other engines tease each other, but didn’t like to get involved. His attention was drawn back, however, when something ran past him and out of the shed. It was too quick for him to catch what exactly it was, but it had been roughly human sized and shaped. “What was that?”

“James,” Emily commented softly from the next stall over. “He does this sometimes at night, goes to his human form and leaves. He doesn’t like it when the others talk about him.”

He didn’t like the sound of that at all. Usually, James did a fairly decent job of giving as good as he got when the teasing got going. Frowning, Edward shifted to his human form with the intent of following after James. He hadn’t used his human form since his accident, and found it even harder to move around than it was as an engine. His balance suffered, and the large gravel that covered the floor of the shed made it difficult for him to keep his footing. 

Eventually, he made it out of the shed and into the cool night air. With one hand firmly against the wall of the shed, Edward slowly made his way to the backside of the roundhouse. He could hear something, it sounded like crying. “James?” Edward followed the sound, sweeping a hand out in front of him to keep from running into anything. “Are you out here?”

There was a sniffling sound, then James’ voice came from out of the dark. “Come to have a laugh at me too?”

“Of course I haven’t come to laugh at you, James. I wanted to see if you were alright.” Edward followed his voice, and soon his hand encountered the other engine’s shoulder. James was sitting with his back against the wall, knees up against his chest. Edward carefully knelt down and joined him. 

“Why do you care?” James’ voice was muffled by his arms, which were crossed over his knees.

“Because you’re my friend, James. Isn’t that enough?” He had never seen the red engine so distraught. “What’s happened, James? You’ve been acting so different lately, distancing yourself from everyone else. Is. Is it because of my accident?”

James let out a choked sob, shaking his head sadly. Finally, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Why don’t you hate me? Everyone else does.”

“Of course I don’t hate you, James. And I know the others don’t either. Why are you so worried?”

“Because I like you.” It was spoken so softly Edward almost didn’t hear it. “You’re the only one that’s always nice to me and never makes fun. And then you get hurt and it’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.”

Was this why James had become so withdrawn, because he blamed himself for the accident and assumed Edward did too? “Oh James, my accident was not your fault and I certainly don’t hate you. And the others don’t either.”

James looked up at Edward with red eyes. The blue engine was smiling, looking slightly to the left of where James was actually sitting. He realized with a pang that Edward couldn’t see him at all in the dark. “But, it was my job to take the Kipper. If I had just done it-“

“James. You didn’t stall that lorry across the tracks, did you?” Edward cut him off. “If I hadn’t been out with the Kipper, it would have been you, or Henry that hit the lorry and crashed. And I can’t bear to think of my friends hurt. I’ll be fine, I might be old but I’m a tough engine.”

“Edward, you’re blind! You aren’t even looking at me right now! And I-“ James couldn’t continue, he buried his face back in his arms and his shoulders shook as he sobbed. 

There wasn’t much more Edward could do. He put his arm around James and sat next to him until the red engine had managed to cry himself to sleep. As he drifted off, his human form dissipated into nothing as his consciousness went back to his real body. Edward sighed. Well, at least now he knew what had James so withdrawn, now he just had to figure out how to help him.


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, Edward was sullen as his crew prepared him for the day. There wasn’t much to look forward to; just another day spent shunting trucks in the yard. He was also thinking about what had happened with James the night before, which kept him distracted enough he didn’t notice the Fat Controller arriving at the sheds until the portly man said his name. 

“Oh, yessir?” Edward tried to focus on the man, who was helpfully standing only a few feet in front of him on a small box with his assistants on either side of him. 

“I have a new job for you and James. Sir Robert, the earl of Sodor, is building an addition up at Ulfstead. He will have goods trains of heavy stone, building materials, and new artifacts to take up to the castle. I am lending you two to him for the duration of the project, please work hard and be safe. There is a heavy goods train for the castle waiting at Brendam docks for you.”

Edward was elated as he moved out of the shed and followed James down the mainline towards the docks. He was getting out of the yards, finally, and pulling trains again. Better yet, he would be working with James. Hopefully, this would give him a chance to talk more with the red engine and try to cheer him up. 

The junction at Wellsworth sent them onto the Brendam branch line and Edward felt a deep sense of familiarity wash over him. He was very proud of his branch line, and knew every inch of it like no other. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see the scenery, he could tell his surroundings just by sound and feel. By the time they reached the docks, Edward had a smile painted across his face and was feeling happy and positive about the world. 

Salty met them when they arrived, having just finished arranging the train for them to take. He was surprised indeed to see Edward, especially with the bandages and eyepatch over the right side of his face. “Ahoy there, matey. Looks like we’ve got a new pirate on the docks!”

James looked rather horrified that someone had the audacity to make fun of Edward’s injuries, and even Porter looked surprised, but Edward only laughed. 

“Arrggh. Am I fierce enough to join your crew, Captain?” Edward tried to make the meanest expression he could, but it pulled at his damaged eyes painfully and made him wince. 

Salty’s face fell when he saw the pain that the blue engine was clearly still in, but kept his voice cheery through sheer effort. “The fiercest. You’re welcome on my crew anytime.”

“Thank you, Salty.” Edward carefully backed up to the trucks and was coupled up. James quickly followed, he would be leading the train with Edward acting as extra motive power. 

The train was long and very heavy, it took the two engines some effort to get rolling out of the docks and towards the castle. Once moving, though, Edward was able to settle down into the easy rhythm. He didn’t often double-head with other engines, and if he did he was usually the front engine. He didn’t mind being in the back, though, he was just glad to be out of the yards and moving. And really, his close-up view of the back of James’ tender wasn’t entirely worse than the green blur that made up the surrounding scenery. At least it didn’t move and shift in confusing ways. 

Climbing the slope up to Ulfstead was a real challenge for the two, the trucks giggling and chanting “hold back, hold back” as they jerked on their couplings. By the time they reached the top, both engines were red-faced and out of breath. The train was split in half and pulled alongside the platform at Ulfstead, where Millie was waiting with the Earl to transfer goods to her trucks. 

“Oh, good. My shipment has arrived!” Sir Robert rubbed his hands together briskly with glee as he walked over to look at the crates. He paused, though, when he saw Edward. “Oh goodness, Edward is it? Are you alright? I remember Sir Topham mentioning one of his engines had been hurt, but I didn’t realize you would be sent out working.”

Edward had never really interacted with the Earl before, and was a bit surprised by his exuberance. And his concern. “I’m fine sir. It might look bad, but I’m still quite capable of getting my work done. Though. I’m sure Sir Topham would lend you a different engine if you want.”

“Oh no, that’s alright.” Sir Robert patted Edward’s buffer beam. He hadn’t meant to upset the blue engine or make him feel unwanted. “As long as you’re eager to work, that’s all that matters. But please, do say something if you need a break.”

“Yes sir.” 

There was nothing for the engines to do but sit and wait as human crews worked to transfer crates from their trucks to Millie’s. James wasn’t talking, seeming content to sit quietly and stare into nothing, and soon Edward was feeling frustrated. His goal had been to try and get James to open up and talk to him more, and he wasn’t accomplishing anything by just sitting here. He wished they could go out and do something while their trucks were being unloaded. 

Abruptly, Edward remembered that now they could go and leave. Their human illusions had a range of about a mile from their real bodies, and with the castle sitting right in front of them that was plenty of space to sight see. 

“Sir Robert? I was wondering if James and I could go on a tour of the castle while the crews unload us.” 

The Earl seemed rather confused by that, before suddenly realizing just what Edward meant. “I think that would be a splendid idea, Edward. We aren’t running tours today, since it’s the off season, but I’m sure that Stephen would be happy to take you around anyways.” He sent a worker off to fetch the elderly engine.

As Stephen chuffed over, Edward transferred over to his human form. Sidney jumped when he suddenly materialized out of nothing in the middle of the cab. “Jesus, Edward. Warn a guy before you do that.” He clutched at his chest, but couldn’t summon any actual ire. In human form Edward looked even more exhausted, the bandages stark white against his tired face. 

“Sorry, fireman.” Edward took a moment to find his balance. “Would you help me get over to James?”

Sidney dutifully took Edward’s hand and helped him step off the footplate and onto the platform. Though Edward could see decently well in the current lighting, he was unsteady on human feet and worried about walking into things. 

“Are you coming, James?”

The red engine frowned, “I’d rather not.”

He had been afraid of that. But Edward wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “I need an escort, and everyone else is busy. If you don’t come, I shall surely trip and fall on my face.”

It was perhaps a bit low of him to play on James’ guilt like that, but it worked. The red engine stepped down from his cab in human form and walked over, looking rather unsure. “Okay, how should I-“

“Um. How about you walk in front of me, and I’ll put my hand on your shoulder?” Not the most elegant solution, perhaps, but one that would hopefully keep Edward from walking into anything. James stood in front of him, the faintest shiver running down his back as Edward laid a hand on his left shoulder, then he dutifully led the older engine over to a waiting Stephen. 

“Hello, you two. Ready for a private tour?” Stephen was quite happy to be getting back to his job, even if it was just for a couple of his friends. 

Edward and James climbed up into the carriage and sat in the front seats. “Ready!”

Stephen started off for the castle in his usual slow way, pointing out various sights as they went with his well rehearsed tour guide voice. Inevitably, though, the conversation turned towards other things. They talked about events on the island, Stephen occasionally interrupting the casual chatter to point out some interesting sight or artifact.

“What exactly is the Earl building?” Edward asked curiously as they passed the taped off construction site alongside the tracks. 

“I think it’s for the dinosaur park.” Stephen slowed down, trying to remember what he had overheard from the workers. “An indoor exhibit with things the children can touch and such. The building is going to be some kind of medieval style, like the castle.”

“Ah.” Edward nodded. “Which is why we’re being sent to the quarry for stone blocks tomorrow. Is the Earl always so. . . eccentric?”

That made Stephen laugh. “That’s one word for it. He’s a very determined man, once he puts his mind to something it gets done. I’m grateful to him, he found me in a museum and decided to have me restored right then and there. If not for the Earl, I’d still be on display.”

“I was afraid the Fat Controller would put me in a museum, after my accident. An engine that can’t see isn’t much use. I hope the Earl doesn’t mind being lent a broken engine.”

“You aren’t broken, Edward.” Stephen insisted firmly, not wanting to hear his friend put himself down like that. “You’ve still got both pistons and a full set of wheels. The Earl isn’t like that besides, as long as you work hard. You know, James, he specifically requested you to come work for him.”

“Me?” James, who had been pretending not to listen, looked over with surprise. 

“Yes, you. I think he likes you.” They slowed to a stop as Stephen pulled into the platform inside the castle courtyard. Here, his passengers normally got off to go inside the castle to view the indoor exhibits. “Well, this is where I leave you; I have some other jobs to do. Enjoy the castle.”

“Thanks, Stephen.” Edward stood still and waiting for James to step in front of him. Waving to Stephen, the blue engine laid his hand back on James shoulder and the two walked into the indoor exhibit parts of the museum. 

Inside the castle, various interesting artifacts filled the halls and decorated the stone walls. They were grouped by geographical location, with entire rooms dedicated to certain countries. Everything was signed very well, with a small plaque telling the history of the item as well as its historical significance. The lighting was also well done, and Edward could appreciate the artifacts on display fairly well if he got close enough, but to his frustration he simply could not read any of the signage. 

“James, could you read the signs aloud for me?” Edward asked after several minutes of squinting angrily at one of the placards.

James frowned, but one look at Edward’s frustrated expression softened him up. He dutifully read the signs out loud in the slow, halting way that all the engines read. Fortunately, the castle was geared to be friendly for all ages, so the signage was short and didn’t use any big, overly long words. The two slowly made through the halls of the castle, marveling at the ingenuity and longevity of the human race. 

They had been wandering for what seemed like hours when Edward suddenly felt an odd sensation. It was coming from his real body, the sharp rap of something knocking against his backhead. He sighed, it must be time to go back and get going. At least he had made some progress, James seemed much more relaxed and they had managed to have lengthy conversations about the strangeness of all the human articles around them. “I believe we are being called back.”

“Oh, I guess we are.” James straightened from where he was bent over looking at some kind of interesting carving. He was feeling the same sensation as well, but had been ignoring it. Having Edward standing so close behind him, hand on his shoulder, had been far more distracting. 

The two reverted back to their real bodies, taking a moment to adjust to the sudden change. James immediately groaned in distaste, their trucks had been emptied of cargo and filled instead with dirt and rocks to be hauled away. Worse, the process of loading the trucks had created a dust cloud that put a layer of dirt over both engine’s paintwork. He probably looked like a clod of mud, the shining red paint he was so proud of obscured by grime. 

Both halves of the train were re-combined, then Edward resumed his place coupled up behind James. The run back down the mountain was slow; it took every ounce of strength for the two engines to keep the trucks from shoving them down the steep incline and off the rails. The trucks of dirt were taken to another site across the island, which needed dirt fill for a landscaping project. Then, mercifully, both engines were taken for a wash down. 

James sighed in relief as the water and suds hit his boiler, washing away the dirt and dust, and the sound made Edward chuckle. His own crew was hard at work as well, the rhythmic scrub of the brush a soothing comfort. 

“You know, I’ve never asked. Why do you love wash downs so much, James?” Edward wondered, trying to make conversation. Every engine liked to be clean, but the red engine took it to an entirely new level of obsession. 

“There’s nothing wrong with being clean.” James said defensively. He had gotten used to the jibes and remarks directed towards his paintwork, most of which were probably deserved, but he still didn’t like hearing it. 

“I never said there was.” Edward soothed, trying not to set off the notoriously volatile engine. “There’s nothing better than a good wash down at the end of the day. But, you must admit, you do tend to take it a bit further than most.”

“I just don’t like dirt. I can feel it on my paint, the grit leaves scratches and it gets into my driving gear.” James shuddered, his driver giving a shout as the ladder he was standing on shook. “People can’t appreciate my red paint if I’m covered in dust.”

There was the old James back. Edward had to admit, though, the more he learned about the red engine, the more curious he became. “Well, I can understand that. Lord knows I’ve had enough of dirt in the last few months.” 

It was the first time someone had ever agreed with him rather than just make fun. James wasn’t quite sure what to do. Maybe it was because he had spent all day talking already, or maybe it was just surprise at how nice Edward was being to him, but James found himself thinking back on his time before Sodor. It was a history he had shared with no one, until now. “Before. Before I came to Sodor, I was a goods engine on a very large railway. There, washdowns were for the passenger engines. Sometimes, my crew would leave me dirty for days. I only got a wash if it interfered with my driving gear. I. Don’t like dirt.”

This was more about his past than James had shared in the almost fifty years that Edward had known him. He hoped for more, but further conversation was interrupted when their crews came over to wash their faces. Edward’s crew had to be particularly careful to keep his bandages dry, using a damp sponge to gently wipe the dirt from the white gauze. Even the softest pressure against his injuries hurt, and the blue engine couldn’t keep in a hiss of pain. His driver patted his cheek in apology. 

“I think it’s about time to have these changed.” Charlie commented, looking at the still dirty, frayed edges of the bandages. “We’ll have to go to the Steamworks before heading back to the shed. Rick, can you guys go out ahead?”

“Sounds good.” James’ driver put away the brushes and buckets, then climbed back up into the cab. They proceeded out onto the mainline at a comfortable speed, heading for Crovan’s Gate. The sun was sinking lower on the horizon, the days ending earlier and earlier as they marched towards winter, and they were running perhaps a bit faster than the Fat Controller would like in the hopes of getting things done before dark fell. 

Fortunately for them the Steamworks had a free berth for Edward and a few workers available to change his bandages. It wasn’t a particularly difficult task, just delicate. Lights were dimmed to keep from shocking his damaged cornea and Edward did his best to keep quiet and still as they slowly peeled off the medical tape and uncovered his burns. Even the dim lights seemed intensely bright, creating a stabbing pain as the works foreman checked to see how his eye was healing. Then, finally, he was allowed to close his eye and the fresh bandages were replaced. 

“It’s doing well.” Hank offered, glad to see that the injuries were improving. “I think you’re on track to have those bandages removed right after New Years.”

New Years seemed ages away, but Edward was still able to summon up a small smile. 

“So, um. How are your injuries?” James asked as the blue engine made his way back out to the doors of the Steamworks. 

“The foreman says they’re doing well. It will still be a little while before they’re totally better though.” Edward waited for James to be turned around on the turn table, then the two were able to set out for home. The right side of his face still itched and ached from being exposed, which didn’t really put him in the mood for conversation as they returned to the sheds and had their fires dumped. 

As the sun went down James crept out of the sheds to get some alone time. The night was cold and clear, stars standing out brightly in the night sky. Cold wasn’t something that affected their false human forms, making it a perfect night for some introspective stargazing. And, apparently, James wasn’t the only person with the same idea. 

Rounding the corner of the shed, James was a bit surprised to find Gordon and Henry sitting against the wall, the green engine cradled in his partner’s large arms. They both looked up with twin expressions of shock, but relaxed when they realized it was only James. There were a lot of humans that believed engines couldn’t, or shouldn’t, have deeper feelings for each other and so the two were very careful to keep their relationship private. No one who wasn’t involved with the railway was allowed to know.

Gordon didn’t seem terribly pleased at being interrupted, but Henry just smiled gently. “Hello, James. Would you like to join us?”

There was a moment of hesitation before James sank down to sit cross-legged on the ground beside the couple. As he looked at them, conflicting thoughts and emotions battled in his head. There was a voice from his past, telling him that it was sick and wrong to have such feelings towards another engine. And yet, they looked so happy together. The Fat Controller even knew, but no punishments had been given and they hadn’t been separated. 

“Can. Can I ask you something?” James asked softly, breaking the silence of the night. 

Gordon grunted in his usual irritated way, but Henry shushed him with a look. “What is it, James?” 

“How did you guys know? I mean, that you wanted to be. . . more than friends with eachother?”

That was the last thing they had expected him to ask. To James’ surprise, it was Gordon who answered first. 

“I guess I always knew. But I pushed it aside and tried to ignore it for years.” Gordon shifted uncomfortably, trying to figure out how best to articulate himself. “But then we became human, and Henry got sick. I lost one of my drivers to human sickness, years ago. And I realized, that I couldn’t bear it if I lost him.”

Henry’s eyes went wide, he had never heard this from his partner before, then he smiled and leaned back to give Gordon a quick kiss. “Fortunately for you, I’m not going anywhere.”

James nodded seriously. Inside, though, he was worried. Because Gordon had confirmed some of his worst fears. 

“Why are you asking us this?” Gordon raised an eyebrow and gave James a calculating look. “Is there an engine you have your eye on?”

“. . . Maybe,” The fact that James’ face turned as red as his paintwork was answer enough. 

“Then you should tell them.” Henry said gently. “If you don’t, it will eat you from the inside out. It’s scary, but you’ll feel better for it.”

“What if they don’t like me back?”

“It would hurt. But not saying anything hurts more.”

James nodded. “Thank you.” Then, he vanished in a swirl of light. He needed time to think about this development.

“So, who do you think it is?” Gordon stared at the place where James had been, unable to help being curious. 

Henry just shrugged. “I don’t know. But whoever it is, I hope they say yes. He’s been so sad lately.”


	8. Chapter 8

As the days grew shorter, the weather also turned colder and more miserable. Morning broke on the Island of Sodor dark and gloomy, with rain falling as a gentle mist. Everyone grumbled and groaned; no one liked winters on the island. The rains could last for days sometimes, and then the snow would come. Less passenger trains ran as the tourists departed for sunnier locales and left only the permanent residents behind. 

Edward frowned as he endured the indignity of having a piece of tarpaulin taped to his face to keep his bandages from getting wet. It was necessary, he knew, but it didn’t make it any less uncomfortable. James couldn’t seem to look at him, eyes sliding away from the blue tarp with shame. They headed for the Anopha Quarry in silence, the rain drumming a steady rhythm against their boilers as it picked up strength. 

At the quarry, they were greeted by the low blare of a diesel horn as Mavis finished shunting their trucks into place. “Hello James, hello Edward.” She caught sight of Edward and gasped. “Oh, Edward. What’s that on your face?”

“It’s a tarp.” Edward looked at the ground, cheeks coloring a bit pink. “I have to keep my bandages dry.”

“Oh! Of course, I’m sorry. I completely forgot.” Mavis moved away from the train so that Edward and James could be coupled up. “Here’s your train of heavy stone for the castle. Be good, you trucks!”

Because the train was so long and heavy, Edward was coupled up to the end as a back engine while James took the front. This nixed any hope of conversation and the two slowly pulled out of the quarry. Straining to hold back the giggling trucks on the steep downhill grade, Edward could feel the ache in old welds and joints. Poor weather and heavy hauling always worked to remind him of his age. All around, the overcast skies turned everything into one solid, grey blur. 

Soon, the light drizzle had become a true downpour. Puddles formed across low spots on the track, giving Edward a rather nasty surprise the first time he hit one. The combination of his impaired eyesight and being at the back of a long train meant he had no warning before cold, muddy water splashed across his body. Fortunately, James seemed to realize what had happened and began calling out a warning whenever he encountered more standing water on the tracks. 

It wasn’t terribly far from the quarry to Ulfstead, but by the time they got there both engines were tired and covered in mud. The Earl met them, dressed in a yellow rain slicker to keep out the wet, and directed them to leave the trucks on a siding near the construction area. 

“A thunderstorm is supposed to roll in soon.” Sir Robert called up to the two engines and their crews. “You’re welcome to stay in the sheds here. I can arrange for rooms for your crews, or a car to take them home.”

None of them particularly wanted to make the journey back to Tidmouth in the worsening rain, so James and Edward were taken to the sheds on the castle grounds. Stephen and Millie were already there, dozing quietly to the sound of rain pounding against the stone roof. They woke up pretty quickly, though, when two more engines were moved into the shed with them. 

“That’s an interesting fashion statement there, Edward.” Stephen chuckled when he saw the blue tarp stretched over the other engine’s face. 

This time, Edward was able to laugh a little. His driver located a ladder and propped it against his boiler, climbing up to carefully peel off the offending tarp. 

“Sorry about that, old boy. But we had to cover up those bandages somehow.” Charlie apologized. The tarp was carefully folded up and stowed back in Edward’s cab, ready to be used if they needed to run in the rain again. “Human medical equipment doesn’t exactly come in your size.”

That got all the engines in the shed laughing, though they were silenced not long after by a peel of thunder from overhead. The low sound rumbled through the shed, vibrating their very fittings and bolts. 

“Welp, I think I’m gonna spend the night at the castle.” Sidney commented as he finished cleaning out Edward’s firebox. “Ain’t gonna risk the mountain roads in this.”

The other humans agreed with him and finished up their tasks as quickly as they could. Soon, they had left for the warm, heated guest rooms of the castle and only the engines were left in the shed. James groaned as he felt dirty water drip through his valve gear. His entire undercarriage was coated in mud from the puddles on the track, and the crew hadn’t had the supplies to give him a wash before they left. 

“Well,” Stephen commented as another peel of thunder rolled overhead. “Since it doesn’t seem like we’ll be getting sleep anytime soon, how about a story?”

“Oh no, not more of your stories.” Millie rolled her eyes, but her voice was playful. She had heard all of Stephen’s tales of his past, but knew that the engines from Tidmouth had not. 

The inside of the shed was filled with the sound of Stephen’s voice as he wove stories from his past. It was an era foreign to the other engines, when trains were pulled by horses and steam engines were the latest, greatest thing. They were good stories, without the shadow of modernization and diesel engines hanging over them. Stephen swelled with pride as he told of the Rainhill trials, when he had sped past his competition, and of the many siblings that had followed him. 

“Of course, things couldn’t stay the same forever. New engines were being built that were so much stronger, and so much faster. Eventually, there was no work left for me to do.” Stephen sighed heavily. “I guess I’m lucky that I wasn’t scrapped. They put me in a museum, on display for humans to look at. I slept most of the time, without a fire in my firebox or steam in my boiler. I spent almost a hundred years on that pedestal, until the Earl found me and had me restored.”

“I know what that is like.” Edward commented, thinking back on years past. “When I was first built, me and my siblings took over on the largest, most important trains. We were considered to be very fast, and very grand indeed. But they started building faster, stronger engines. We became backup engines, and goods engines. I was so happy when they sent me here, to Sodor. I was important again, helping build the Northwestern Railway. Then Gordon came, and Henry. James, and Thomas. They were all younger than me, all stronger and faster. I was left in the sheds, only taken out as a backup engine if someone broke down. I began to think, maybe it would be better if I was ‘preserved’ like they suggested. 

“I spent ten years like that, growing older and more out of date with disuse. Until one day when some young boys played with James’ controls and sent him flying down the track without his driver or fireman. I was in the yard, so the Inspector grabbed a shunter’s pole and a length of rope and told me to catch up with James. That was probably the hardest run I’ve had in my life. I was in such ill repair that everything knocked and shook, but eventually I caught up. The Inspector looped the rope around James’ buffer and jumped across, then brought us both to a stop. After that, the Fat Controller was so pleased I got a complete overhaul and my own branch line.” 

“The young engines always underestimate us old-timers.” Stephen smiled at the story. He might no longer be “The Rocket” but that didn’t mean he wasn’t useful. One day, maybe Spencer would have trouble and then he’d show that silver streamliner what an old engine could do. 

Edward looked over to James, hoping the red engine hadn’t minded him telling the story of his runaway, but couldn’t see anything in the dim light of the shed. All was silent for a while, the only sound that of the rain drumming on the roof and muddy water slowly dripping off their frames and onto the stone floor. Slowly, the engines drifted off to sleep. 

It was difficult to tell how much time had passed when Edward was suddenly jerked awake by a sharp clap of thunder overhead. It felt like only minutes, but the soft snoring of his shed mates proved that it was probably much longer. Edward took several deep breaths, trying to calm himself down from the nightmare that had plagued him before his rude awakening. It had been the crash, again. As it always was these past few weeks. The thunder only made it worse, reminding him of the terrible din of the explosion and the screeching of trucks piling atop one another as they left the rails. 

“Edward?” A soft voice came from his right, and Edward realized that he wasn’t the only one awake in the wee hours of the morning. 

“I’m sorry, James. Did I wake you?” Edward kept his voice quiet, aware that Mille and Stephen, at least, were still asleep. 

“No, I couldn’t sleep.” James admitted. “Just, been thinking about things. From a long time ago.”

“Oh. Well, if you want to talk about it. Sometimes, talking helps.”

James was hesitant. He never spoke about his life before coming to Sodor, and usually tried his best to forget about the past completely. Some nights, though, it came back and it ate at him. No one, not even his crew, knew the real reason James was irritable and moody on some days more than others. 

Maybe it was time to tell someone. Edward wouldn’t laugh at him or use the knowledge as blackmail, there would probably be no time better. As lightning flashed and the rain poured, James began his tale.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I am not a railway historian, and don't know anything about the L&YR beyond what I discovered through a simple Google. So this chapter is mostly just fanciful narration and an excuse to get out my personal headcanons concerning James' past.

The year was 1920. The Class 28s of the Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway had been working for several years now, and were proving to be very useful, hard working engines. However, problems had been noticed when they got up to higher speeds. They often nosed down, and ran poorly at speed. After some time spent brainstorming and making plans, one of the youngest class 28s was rebuilt with a front pony truck and a few other modifications. 

Workmen stood around the works at Horwich, looking over the newly rebuilt engine with interest. The fire was lit for the first time, and steam started to rise in the boiler. With a soft groan, the engine opened his eyes and looked around. He did not know where he was, or who he was. He knew nothing at all; the memories from before his rebuild were all gone. The workshop was an enormous building, full of noise and machinery. A tiny tank locomotive bustled by with a wagon of parts, piping its whistle shrilly as it passed. It was all very new, and very scary.

There would be no comforting words for the engine. His builder came to look at him with a critical eye, before nodding his approval. The engine’s number was painted onto his cab just under the emblem of the railway. They had too many locomotives to give them all names, and so he was simply known as “Locomotive 55.” It was short for his build number, 12555. It was the only name he knew for many months. 

Work began that very day. It was hard work, and very busy. The L&YR was the largest on the mainland then, with hundreds of engines and stations and signals. Trains ran constantly, all pulled by engines painted with the livery of the railway. Everyone Number 55 saw looked just the same, black all over with red stripes. Some of the engines had white stripes as well. His driver told him those were the special engines, passenger engines which pulled coaches. Number 55 admired them, with their gleaming paint and polished brass. He was dusty and dirty, for he was only a goods engine and pulled nothing but trucks. 

At the shed where he spent his nights several other Class 28s were kept. They sneered at him, he had gone and gotten rebuilt. If he was successful, they feared, they would all be rebuilt or replaced just the same. Number 55 wished he was still like his siblings, one of over 60 other engines that all looked alike. Then, maybe the others wouldn’t make fun of his new shape. They liked to call him “pony” because of his front axle, and thought that was a brilliant joke indeed. 

It didn’t take long to learn how cruel other engines of the railway could be. They didn’t seem to care that he couldn’t remember his life with them before, they often berated him for forgetting simple things or not knowing how to do something. He became very nervous and afraid of new tasks, and then they would laugh and tell him that he was a scaredy-engine and that obviously Mr. Hughes had done something wrong when he was rebuilt. 

The year wore on, long and slow. Number 55 was run fast and run hard, testing to see how successful his rebuild had been. The other engines had gotten into the habit of mostly ignoring him, save for the occasional dirty look when he was praised over them. Spring was turning into summer when Number 55 met an engine he had never seen before at a junction. The new engine was large and strong, but more importantly he was painted a bright, shining red. Number 55 had never seen an engine that wasn’t painted black before. 

“Hello.” The new engine said with a smile on his face. “I’m Jeremy, what’s your name?”

“Name?” He was confused; humans had names, not engines. “I don’t have a name. I’m engine number 55.”

“Don’t have a name?!” Jeremy seemed shocked. “That’s terrible. Why don’t you have a name?”

“We don’t get names. There’s too many engines for the railway to give each one of us a name.” Number 55 didn’t understand why this ‘Jeremy’ was so surprised. “Where are you from? I’ve never seen an engine painted red before.”

Jeremy accepted the sudden subject change with good grace, though he still seemed upset. “I’m just on lend to the railway for a few weeks while the usual engine on this run goes in for a mend.” In front of them, the signal turned green and Jeremy’s wheels began to turn with a hiss of steam. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later. Good to meet you!”

The next day, Number 55 encountered Jeremy again at the same signal. The big red engine smiled upon seeing him. “55, right? Good to see you again. You’re the only engine I can tell apart from the others around here, why is that?”

Number 55’s cheeks colored in shame. “I was a Class 28, but they rebuilt me with a pony truck. I’m an experiment, the only one of my type.”

“That must be nice. All the other engines around here look alike, and they’re all stuck up too. You’re the only one that’s stopped to talk to me like this.” Jeremy seemed thoughtful, “You know, I can’t keep calling you just ‘55’. You should have a name.”

Every day after that, when they met at the signal, Jeremy would suggest a name. Each time, Number 55 would turn it down. Maybe he was picky, but he didn’t like the sound of any of them. 

“Eustance? Harold?” Jeremy frowned. “What about Templeton?” He was running out of ideas. The names were getting longer and more outlandish. 

“Templeton?” Number 55 asked incredulously. “What kind of engine do you think I am?”

“Fine, I’ll just have to keep thinking of more.” It was a good thing Jeremy liked a challenge. “And I’ll have you know, the stationmaster at that last station is named Templeton. It’s a perfectly respectable name.”

“For a small town stationmaster maybe!” Number 55 called after him as the larger engine pulled away, coaches rattling along behind him. A happy smile stretched across the black engine’s face, the first genuine smile he’d ever had. 

That night, at the sheds, the other engines looked at him suspiciously. Finally, the eldest Class 28 spoke. He was the “big brother” of the sheds, and felt it was his job to keep the younger engines in line. “Have you been spending time with that new engine, Number 55?”

“I have.” He was not ashamed, he saw nothing wrong with talking with a new engine. “Is there something wrong with that, Number 16?”

“We do not consort with –foreign- engines.” Number 16 commanded. “We keep to our own kind. Even ones that have been. . . changed like you have.”

“But Jeremy is a perfectly nice engine.” Number 55 protested. “He’s kind and strong, he pulls more coaches at once than any engine I’ve ever seen. I like spending time with him, he makes me happy. I like having him as a friend.”

Number 16’s eyes narrowed and a sneer distorted his face. “ ‘Friend’? It sounds like you want to be more than friends to me. I knew there was something wrong with you. That rebuild did more than wipe your memory, it’s warped your mind as well. We are steam engines, not silly humans. We do not get –involved- with other engines, it is simply not done. If the Controller finds out, he’ll have you scrapped. Having feelings like yours towards other engines is sick, and you’ll be better off keeping crap like that to yourself. I want you to stop talking to that other engine. Now.”

Tears pricked at the corners of Number 55’s eyes. He didn’t understand what was happening. Was he really broken for feeling how he did? “I- yes. Okay.”

“Good.” 

 

The next day at the junction, Jeremy arrived right at the usual time with a smile on his face. “I got the perfect name today, you’ll love it.” He faltered when he saw his friend’s heartbroken expression. “What’s wrong?”

“I, uh.” Number 55 knew he should tell Jeremy that they couldn’t talk with each other anymore, but he couldn’t seem to come out and say it. The idea of never seeing Jeremy again tore at something inside him, he didn’t want to think about it. “Nothing. It’s nothing. What names have you for me today?”

“So, this name was my old driver’s. He was a good man, a lot like you. Unique and spirited.” Jeremy had put a lot of thought into this one. “What do you think about the name James?”

“James?” He tested it in his head, rolling it around and seeing how it fit. It was much better than the other names Jeremy had suggested, simple and neat. “I like it. James. It’s a good name.”

Jeremy gave a triumphant laugh. “Finally. James it is! It’s good to meet you James.”

It would take some time to get used to being called by an actual name. James couldn’t help but smile at the sound of Jeremy’s laugh; it always banished the sadness of the world away.

On the rest of the railway, nothing changed. He was called Number 55 by all, if they bothered to talk to him in the first place. The only reason people noticed him at all was because he was a freak, the Class 28 who had been rebuilt into something different. And different was the worst thing an engine could be. 

James looked forward to those few short minutes spent with Jeremy at the junction. He hoped that he never got reassigned from his regular goods train, no matter how boring the rest of the run was. Not a week had passed, though, when Jeremy arrived looking a bit more solemn than usual. 

“Well, this will be our last day at the junction.” Jeremy began, trying to put a smile back on his face. “It’s been good talking with you, James. I’m glad I could get you a real name.”

“What. What do you mean?” 

“I’m going back to my railway. My time here is done.” The larger engine sighed. “It will be good to get back home. I’ll miss you, James. Maybe we’ll see each other again someday.” The signal turned green and Jeremy raced off to finish his run. 

James couldn’t move, couldn’t think. He had known, on some level, that Jeremy was only visiting and would someday have to go back to his own railway. But he had been ignoring that fact in the desperate hope that their short visits could continue indefinitely. At least Number 16 would be happy to have the ‘foreign engine’ gone. 

Continuing on without Jeremy was hard. James could hardly remember what it had been like before he’d met the big, red engine. Sadness slowly morphed to anger as James got more and more fed up with his life. The big passenger engines got all the attention, were washed and detailed regularly so they shone as they went by. And here he was; nothing but a strange, one-off goods engine with dusty paint and no friends. 

One day, as he sat in the sheds waiting for his morning orders, James saw the controller of the railway himself walking towards him. James instantly thought of what Number 16 had told him, about how engines with “improper feelings” towards other engines were sent for scrap. It had been months since Jeremy had left, but he still sometimes feared that others had found out. 

“Number 12555.” The human glanced down at his paperwork and back up at the engine in front of him. 

Abruptly, James felt something inside of him snap. “My name is James.”

The other engines in the shed gasped as one, but said nothing in the presence of their owner. Still, James could feel the angry glare of Number 16 from off to his side. The controller only raised an eyebrow skeptically. 

“We at the railway have decided that your experiment has not been as successful as we had hoped. The decision has been made to sell you to another railway. You will be departing for the Northwestern Railway tomorrow morning. That is all.” And with that, the human walked out of the shed. 

“How dare you.” Number 16 snarled as soon as their owner had left. “Taking a name for yourself like that. Engines must earn their names, you can’t just choose whatever suits your fancy. You never should have been allowed to work here. Experimental engines can never be anything good. We’ll be glad to have you gone.”

And that was the last any of James’ siblings spoke to him. The other engines only offered steely glares as he went about his tasks for the day. The next morning, as James was being loaded onto a large steamship at the docks, he looked over the railway that had been his home and found he didn’t miss it at all. 

Sodor was a new and exciting land. There was actual countryside, and long stretches between stations and signals so an engine could really stretch their pistons. His new owner greeted him warmly, and didn’t question it when James told the man his name. The emblem of the L&YR was painted over and instead he received a shiny number 5 on his tender. The best part, though, was that he could get a wash down whenever he wanted. James resolved to never be dirty again.

Meeting the other engines, James found himself instantly enamored with the large blue passenger engine. Here was an experimental engine, like himself, but this one was quite grand and got to pull passengers rather than dirty trucks. He imagined that maybe, here he would be able to find actual friends. Perhaps even someone like Jeremy. 

It didn’t quite turn out as he had hoped. Though James tried his hardest to be friends with Gordon, the large blue engine only sneered and talked down to him. James had never considered himself a small engine before this, there had been many engines on his home railway smaller, and didn’t think there was anything wrong with his wooden brakes either. They had served him well for months with no trouble. 

The other big engine, Henry, was a little easier to talk with, though he seemed rather nervous all the time and always deferred to Gordon. James would not be deterred. He copied Gordon, talking down to the smaller engines of the railway in the hopes of being seen as one of the “big tender engines.” Eventually, it worked. 

Even on a railway like the Northwestern, engines can be cruel. Accidents and mistakes were brought up again and again, something to laugh at and use as fodder to mock their fellow engines. James felt himself grow hard, fighting to shield himself from the teasing while giving back as harshly as he got. 

He forced himself to be harsh for another reason as well. Because there was another engine on the railway that he felt himself falling for. The words of his older sibling rang back to him, and James felt desperately afraid that if he acted on his feelings he would be sent away from his new home. And so he became ruthless and mean instead. 

It turned out that Gordon was right about the wooden brake blocks. James’ home railway had been flat with no steep grades and the engines kept to fairly slow speeds. The Northwestern Railway was much hillier, and the long trains he often pulled soon wore through the wood brake shoes. He became a runaway in a most spectacular fashion, brakes on fire as he flew down the rails unable to stop. After the subsequent wreck, James was taken to the works to be repainted. No longer would he be a plain, black goods engine. They wanted to paint him Northwestern Blue, but James balked at the idea. He didn’t want to carry the same livery as the other engines of the island. Instead, he asked to be painted red. Like his old friend had been. He would be the only red engine on the whole island, and he would be very proud of looking different indeed. 

James’ voice trailed off as he finished his story, resolutely staring at the door of the shed so that he wouldn’t have to see Edward’s expression. His face burned with shame, regret for things he hadn’t done so long ago and guilt for what he had allowed himself to become. He had been so cruel to Edward, and others, for so many years. Hoping that maybe his feelings would go away if he could harden himself enough. 

“Oh, James.” Edward whispered softly. His eyes both burned fiercely, but it seemed they could produce no tears in their damaged state. He didn’t doubt the other engine’s story; he knew well enough how harsh the some of the mainland railways could be. His own class had been very insular and conceited for a good while, until they were all replaced by younger engines and thusly knocked from their pedestal. “I’m sorry that happened to you, James.”

“It was a long time ago.” The red engine muttered, already regretting saying anything. 

“The past can still hurt us, no matter how long ago it was.” Edward wished he could do something, but the engines of James’ story were probably all long gone by now. To his knowledge, no other Class 28s had survived the end of steam on the mainland. This “Jeremy” engine had probably been scrapped as well, like so many of their kin in recent years. Banishing the dark thoughts, Edward tried to focus on happier things. “You said there was an engine here on Sodor you liked. Did you ever tell them?”

“N-no. No. I never did.” How awkward it was to be asked that from the very engine he liked. “They probably don’t like me back anyway; I was pretty awful to them.” He didn’t mention that he was also scared, afraid that if the others found out he would be sent away. 

“You should still tell them. You’ll never know if you don’t say anything.” Edward said encouragingly. “I know your siblings made you think that such feelings are sick, but they were wrong. Just look at Gordon and Henry, they’re together and nothing bad has happened. In fact, it’s the happiest I’ve ever seen those two. Things have changed in the fifty years since you came to the island.”

He knew this, logically. But a lifetime of hate is not easy to get rid of. James glanced over to Edward, feeling his resolution crumble at the sight of the blue engine’s scarred eye and the earnest expression on his face. Before he could lose his courage, James took a deep breath. “The engine I like. Is you.”

Edward’s mouth fell open in shock. He could think of nothing to say. James liked him? He was just an old, nearly blind engine. Why would someone so young and proud like –him- of all engines?

As the silence stretched, James felt himself panic. “I realize you probably don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. I just thought I should tell you. You don’t have to say anything, I know I’ve never been anything but mean and nasty to you-“

“James.” Edward cut him off gently before he could dig himself deeper. “I just. Don’t know what you could see in an out-of-date steamer like me. I’m not strong, or fast, or even particularly useful. Especially now.”

“That isn’t true.” James said vehemently. “You work harder than anyone on this railway. You’re nice, and kind, and never let the others walk all over you. I’ve even seen you talk down to Gordon.”

By this point, Edward was bright red. He was quite glad it was dark in the shed. “Thank you, James. I must admit, I like you too. And, if you want to take our relationship further, well, I’m willing.”

“W-what?” James had never expected the blue engine to actually –return- his feelings. This was not something he had planned for. 

Clearly, he was going to have to be more direct. Edward summoned his courage. “James. Would you like to go out with me?”

“I- yes. Yes, I would.” It felt as though he was dreaming. James was certain that any moment now he would be woken up by his crew. Instead, all he saw was Edward smiling gently at him. 

Outside, it seemed as though the storm had finally passed. The thunder was distant and quiet now, and instead of rain there was only the gentle drip of water from the eaves. A quiet snore from Stephen reminded Edward that it was still very early in the morning and that neither of them was supposed to be awake. “How about we get some sleep. We can talk more in the morning, alright James?”

“Okay. Goodnight, Edward.”

“Goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wonderful companion piece to this chapter was written by Australis Ramblings. Everyone should go read it!
> 
> http://australisramblings.tumblr.com/post/136531988318/for-exdraghunt-their-fic-runner-in-the-night


	10. Chapter 10

The rain had finished completely and the clouds cleared by the time the sun rose in the morning, rousing the engine crews from their sleep and bringing them down to the shed to wake their engines for the day. James was still dizzy from the previous night, hoping that it had all happened and wasn’t just a dream. 

Edward was feeling rather nervous; this was completely new territory for him. He knew, though, that James was just as unsure about this as he was. Maybe even more so. With this in mind, he shifted to his human form and looked to his fireman. “Fireman, would you help me over to James?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Sidney didn’t know what was going on, but agreeably led Edward over to the other engine’s cab. This would be a bit of a risk, to do this in front of everyone, but he wanted to let James know that he had been serious the night before. 

James was confused, but shifted to his human form as well and stepped down onto the stone floor of the shed to face Edward. The blue engine was blushing fiercely, a sign that something was definitely up. 

“I just wanted to say good morning.” Edward leaned forward and gave James a quick kiss on the lips. The red engine’s eyes went wide and he brought a hand up to his mouth in shock. Sidney, who was standing and watching the scene, dropped his shovel with a clatter. 

“I. Uh.” James was speechless. “G-good morning to you too.”

Edward was quite aware of the stares they were getting from the humans in the shed, so he settled for placing a hand on James’ cheek and giving him an encouraging smile before vanishing. 

As James moved out of the shed and to the small washrack on the castle grounds, a dopey grin stretched across his features. He had doubted himself earlier, but the feeling of Edward’s lips against his own had been all too real. Finally, after so many years, he had admitted his feelings only to find them reciprocated. This was possibly the happiest he’d ever been. 

Rick went to fetch the buckets and brushes, smirking at the sight of his engine’s happy smile. “So. You and Edward, huh? When did that happen?”

“Last night,” James bit his lip and looked away from his driver. He had known this man for several years now, trusted him, and yet there was still that deep seated fear that there would be terrible consequences for his actions. 

“Well, congratulations.” Rick picked up the hose and began washing the mud off his wheels. “We’ll have to see about getting you two out on a date or something.”

“D-date?” Steam hissed in embarrassment. James hadn’t really given any thought to what couples actually –did- in relationships. 

“Well yeah. You know, get you two some alone time. Away from the other engines. You can do. . . what-ever it is that two engines in love do.”

In love? Is that what he was? There was a warm feeling in his boiler, not from his fire but something deeper. And James thought, maybe that was the right term after all.

Back in the shed, Edward was involved in a similar conversation with his own crew. 

“So. What was that with James?” Charlie had been oiling at the time, but had seen everything. Edward might have been worried about his tone, if it weren’t for the knowing grins on both his driver’s and fireman’s faces. 

“We ended up talking a bit last night.” Edward admitted. He knew his face was bright red; he never could keep his emotions hidden. “James told me that he liked me, and I said that I liked him back. So, I guess we’re, how do you put it, dating now?”

“Dating?” Charlie couldn’t hold in a snicker. “Hey, Sid! Did you hear that? Our 80-year-old engine just started dating.”

“Took him long enough!” Sidney called back from his place inside the cab. 

“I’m not 80!” Edward protested. “Not for another two years!”

“Our 78 year old engine, then.” Charlie laughed and patted Edward’s boiler, “We’re just teasing you, Edward. Really, all the matters is that you’re happy. You know if you ever need anything you can come to either of us. Between me and Sidney, we’ve dealt with pretty much everything.”

“Thank you, driver. Really.” Edward knew how lucky he was to have such an accepting, kind pair of men as his crew. 

“Aww, yer both a pair of saps!” Sidney yelled across the shed. Charlie rolled his eyes and made his way back to the cab so they could move Edward out to the washracks. 

When both engines were cleaned up, they were to go to the Blue Mountain quarry for another shipment of stone. The rain had delayed unloading of the trucks they had brought the day before, so first they had to make a run down to the shunting yards for more. With the sun out, it was a lovely day for them to stretch their wheels, if a bit cold. Fortunately, their fires kept them and their crews nice and warm. 

They weren’t, however, staying dry. Several stretches of track had standing water across them from the heavy rains the night before, nothing deep enough to put out their fires, but soon both engines were splattered with mud once more. James called out warnings when he encountered puddles, which at least gave Edward enough time to slow down and keep the mud from splashing up onto his face. He really didn’t want to have to wear the tarp again. 

As they pulled into the Knapford yards, James groaned loudly in distaste. “My paint is covered in mud! Now I’m going to need to get washed again.”

“We have to finish this job first.” Rick told him sternly, climbing down from the cab to switch over the points so they could get into place in front of their waiting trucks. “We’ll wash you once we get the stone delivered up to Ulfstead. You’d just get dirty again, anyway.”

James shuddered on his wheels and Edward felt a twinge of sympathy. “It’ll be alright, James. We’ll get this job done before you know it. With the tracks so wet, I bet even Gordon is muddy from fender to dome.”

The mental image of Gordon covered in mud was enough to make James smile as he took his place at the front of the train. “Well he never slows for anything on the tracks, it’d serve him right. The great galloping sausage.”

Edward couldn’t help but laugh at the sound of Gordon’s old nickname. The lovely sound made the red engine forget all about the dirt covering his paintwork. “Oh, don’t let him hear you call him that. You know he hates that nickname.”

“Only because it’s true.” 

Their climb to the Blue Mountain quarry was a refreshing change from the last few weeks. This time, the two engines were able to keep up a casual conversation and even laugh and joke with each other. Even James was surprised how easy it was to just talk to Edward, telling the blue engine about his past really seemed to have lifted a weight off his mind. He had been so scared that Edward hated him for so long, to know it wasn’t true at all. Well, he hadn’t felt so happy in a long time. 

“Hello Edward, hello James!” Skarloey greeted the pair as they rolled into the quarry, a train of gravel trucks rattling along behind him. The narrow gauge engines, bar a few notable exceptions, were usually quite friendly to their standard gauge neighbors and loved having visitors. 

“Hello Skarloey.” Edward couldn’t see the small red engine, but his deep voice and whistle were quite distinctive. “We’re here for gravel for the castle, is it ready for us to load?”

“Oh, I think Rusty is taking care of that. I’d say check with Owen over at the loading platform.”

They backed the train into the loading platform, where trucks of gravel from the upper terrace could be easily dumped into their own trucks. Rusty, the small diesel who worked at the quarry, was up on the upper terrace loading trucks onto Owen’s platforms. The little diesel’s unique two-tone horn greeted them cheerfully. “Hello you two! First load of gravel coming down.” 

“Thank you, Rusty!” Edward coughed as the gravel was tipped into their trucks, sending up clouds of dust. Though he enjoyed seeing his narrow gauge friends, he didn’t so much enjoy the large amounts of dust and noise that came with the quarry. It was clear James didn’t either, judging by the shudder of disgust from the red engine. 

“This is why I hate hauling trucks.” James grumbled as he blew soot out of his funnel, trying to get out the dust he could feel settling in there. 

“Oh, it isn’t always so bad.” The friendly voice and low blat of an air horn signaled the arrival of Paxton for his usual stone loads for the docks. The diesel slowed to a halt in the siding next to them to wait for the loading area to be clear. “Bit of dust and dirt never hurt anyone.”

James snorted. “To you, maybe. Some of us have appearances to keep up.”

“What James means is; you’re young yet. And you’re also used to this kind of work.” Edward rolled his eyes good-naturedly at the sound of his partner’s ire. “Not all of us are accustomed to the dust and dirt.”

“Oh. That makes sense. Sorry.” That was one of the nice things about Paxton, he never took offense and always tried to look on the bright side of things. “Oh, Edward. How is your eye, I heard you got hurt.”

“It’s doing okay.” It was getting a little annoying being asked how he was all the time, but Edward couldn’t be angry at Paxton. “I should be able to get the bandages off next month after New Years.”

“Well, that’s good at least.”

A call came from the workmen on the platform, they were finished loading up the train of Ulfstead. James and Edward tooted their whistles and moved off towards the castle. The train of gravel was thankfully not as heavy or difficult to move as the train of stone the day before, and the run up to Ulfstead was comparatively easy. As they sat and waited for the trucks to be unloaded, James and Edward used their human forms to sit and relax on a bench on the platform. Engines could not touch in their real bodies, which made the act of hand holding or cuddling that much more special.

James sighed as he looked over his real body, sitting next to the platform in front of them, “Look at that, I’m more dirt than engine.”

“I can’t tell.” Edward admitted after squinting fruitlessly for a few minutes. But the mud and James’ red paint just didn’t have enough contrast to tell them apart. “I can’t see well enough from here.”

“Oh.” There was a long silence before James whispered softly. “I’m sorry, Edward.”

“It’s okay James.” Edward said sincerely. He put an arm over the younger engine’s shoulders and pulled him closer to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I don’t blame you, and I never did. Another month and I’ll be able to see again, just you wait. And until then, well, my view of your tender isn’t so bad.”

That brought the smile he had hoped for. James couldn’t help the grin that stretched across his face. “You like my tender, then?”

“I think your tender is very cute.”

From inside Edward’s cab, his crew watched the couple sitting on the bench. 

“I’m going to get a cavity if they get any sweeter.” Sidney muttered, leaning on his shovel as he peered through one of the small cab windows. 

“Shut up, Sid. It’s cute.” Charlie gave a fireman a friendly punch to the shoulder. “It is weird that he is almost twice my age, but I still feel like I’m watching my son with his first girlfriend? Or boyfriend, or whatever.”

“I understand that.” Sidney sighed and turned his attention back to the fire. “Welp. I ain’t giving them ‘the talk.’ I’ll leave that one up to you.”

“Sidney!” Charlie’s face was a mixture of surprise and horror. “I’m pretty sure they can’t even do –that-. God, I don’t even want to think about it.

“I was just joking!” Sidney laughed and closed the firebox door, wiping grubby hands on even grubbier trousers. “Yannow, Charlie. Our job has gotten pretty damn weird.”

“You got that right.”

 

As promised, once the trucks had been unloaded and returned to the shunting yards Edward and James were taken to the washdown nearest Tidmouth to get nice and clean before returning to the sheds for the evening. They weren’t the only ones there, though. Thomas was sitting with Annie and Clarabel, all spattered with mud and dust from a hard day’s work. 

This washdown only held two engines at a time, so with Thomas there that meant one of them would have to wait while the other was washed. Naturally, the one to go first was James. The red engine sighed and closed his eyes when the cool suds hit his boiler, but he opened them a moment later when he felt something touch his face. Edward was there, in his human form and standing in front of James’ smokebox on his buffer beam with a soapy rag in hand. 

“Edward? What are you doing?”

“I thought it might go a bit faster if I helped.” Edward smiled and pressed a kiss to James’ cheek. 

James was suddenly very aware of Thomas, who was sitting facing him only a few yards away with a quizzical look on his face. “Are you two together then? Like, how Henry and Gordon are?” The small tank engine ventured. 

“Yes. We are.” Edward said quietly, after it became clear that James was not going to answer. “You may tell the others if you like, Thomas, I’m sure they’ll find out soon enough.”

“Oh. Alright,” Thomas was still rather confused. Edward and James together? When had that happened? James was the absolute last engine he would ever expect to have a romantic relationship with someone else. He was still puzzling over it as he pulled away from the washrack and headed for the shunting yards to drop off Annie and Clarabel. 

“Are you sure that’s wise?” James asked softly as Edward worked to wipe the dirt and dust from his face. Thomas was infamous for being a blabbermouth, after all, and he didn’t particularly want his personal life to be the hot topic in the gossip circles. 

“You know as well as I do how impossible it is to keep secrets on this island. Hold still a minute,” Edward carefully dabbed at James’ right eye, trying to remove a stubborn streak of dirt from his eyelid. “At least this way, we don’t have to stand up in front of everyone and say it. Thomas may be a bit. . . immature, but I’m sure he won’t say anything too bad.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Finishing up his task, Edward gave James another kiss and made to climb down from his perch. However, the soapsuds and water had made the buffer beam slippery, upsetting Edward’s already delicate balance. His feet went out from under him and he crashed to the ground below. Instantly, his human body vanished and left only the rag sitting forlornly on the ground. 

“Edward!” 

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” This came from behind James, where Edward’s real body was sitting and waiting to be washed. He was reeling a bit from the unexpected change, but otherwise unhurt. Their human illusions felt no pain, but a good shock was sometimes enough to send an engine back to their real body involuntarily. Incredibly disorienting, but not painful. “I guess I’m not very good at the whole human thing, huh?”

“Jesus, Edward. You about gave me a heart attack.” That was from Rick, who had been hosing James off and seen the whole thing. Even though he knew that Edward couldn’t be hurt in his human form that still didn’t stop the knee-jerk reaction of pure terror when he saw the blue engine fall. Putting the hose down, he climbed up into James’ cab and moved the red engine forward so that Edward could be washed. 

Something moved in front of Edward’s face, human sized and shaped and reddish in color. “James? Is that you?”

“I thought I’d return the favor.” James climbed up onto Edward’s buffer beam with a rag in hand. “Is there anything I need to be careful of?”

“Try not to get the bandages wet. I’m not due to have them changed for another two days.” Edward flinched as James reached up to carefully wipe dust from the white gauze, sharp pinpricks of pain created by even the gentlest touch. He managed to stay silent, though, knowing that if he expressed the pain James would only feel guilty for it. 

“I’m sorry,” James still picked up on it, of course, no matter how well he tried to hide it. They were still new at this, still had a lot to learn about each other. Edward though, had faith that it would all turn out okay. 

 

On the other side of the island, there was another engine that was feeling decidedly less positive about the situation. It hadn’t taken long for the most recent news to spread across the island all the way to the Dieselworks in Vicarstown. Thomas had told Paxton and the little green diesel, with his incredible innocence and trusting nature, had told Diesel. 

Though Diesel was a relatively new engine, only around 20 years old and therefore younger than the majority of the steam engines of the railway, he held on to some rather old-fashioned ideals. He had heard about Gordon and Henry several months earlier and been sickened by the news; bad enough that the railway continued to favor out-of-date dirty steam engines over vastly superior diesels, now the steam engines were getting involved in illicit and lewd behavior. Apparently, another pair of them had gone and “coupled up.” This was no longer an isolated incident, it was an epidemic. The Fat Controller had already proven that he wasn’t going to be punishing the steamies for their disgusting behavior. Someone had to put a stop to it. 

In the dark of the shed, Diesel sat with his driver and made a plan.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a lighter and softer chapter. My brain had a thought "what if they all went to a gay bar?" And then "What if James got kidnapped by Drag Queens?" and it just went downhill from there. This chapter is the result.

After finishing the morning run with the Express, Gordon’s driver Sam was relaxing in the engine driver’s break room with his lunch when the door opened and several people walked in. 

“Heeey, Sam. Just the man we needed to see.” Rick sat down next to him, a too-wide grin on his face. Charlie and Sidney were with him, taking the other two chairs at the table. 

Sam sighed and set down his sandwich. “Alright, what do you want?”

Obviously, there wasn’t going to be any small talk. Time to get down to business. Rick propped his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “What do Henry and Gordon like to do for fun?”

“Excuse me?” That was not where he expected this conversation to go. “Why do you want to know?”

“Rick decided that we need to get Edward and James out on a date of some kind.” Charlie explained. “So, we figured we’d ask you what Gordon and Henry like to do.”

“Dunno how much help I’ll be.” Sam said with a shrug. “Usually, we just take them to the forest for a bit if the weather is nice. You know how Henry likes nature. I think he’d be happy to sit there all day if we let him, watching the birds and the deer and such. Gordon isn’t so interested in that stuff, but I think he’s just happy if Henry is.”

While incredibly sappy, the information wasn’t much help. Charlie frowned, “It would be nice if they could get some alone time together. Do something that doesn’t have to do with their jobs.”

“That. Actually gives me an idea. What if I took them to The Cuff tomorrow night?” Sam was getting excited at the thought. “It’s a great place to wind down after work, spend time with your partner.”

“The Cuff? As in the gay bar?” Rick looked at Sam incredulously, “You want to take them to a gay bar?!”

“Well why not? At least there displays of affection between men, or people who look like men, are normalized. No more of this sneaking around in private. It ain’t good for relationships to have to try and keep hidden all the time. I should know.”

“What do you mean by that?” Charlie asked, still not convinced by this whole idea.

Sam gave him a weary look. “You lads know I’m gay, right? And that I live with my boyfriend? Well, not ten years ago being gay was illegal. Kissing my partner in public could get me arrested. It hurt, being forced to sneak around in the dark so my neighbors didn’t notice that the only people who ever came and went from my apartment were other guys. That’s why I love going to The Cuff, there’s no judgment there, or funny looks. It’s like family. I realize it isn’t quite the same for them, but I think they might enjoy it.”

Well, it couldn’t hurt. Charlie sighed. “Just, keep an eye on them, okay?” 

 

The next evening, after all the engines were back in the shed, Sam gathered Gordon, Henry, Edward, and James outside. “Alright, lads. Your drivers and I had a discussion, and decided that it would be good to take you guys out somewhere away from the others. This is one of my favorite places to hang out with friends and relax after work; you can enjoy each other’s company and not worry about other people saying things. Do you know what a bar is?”

They did have a vague idea. The drivers and firemen and other railway workers spoke often about them, usually with eagerness and longing. Humans always seemed to talk about how much they looked forward to getting off work so they could go to the pub or the bar. If humans enjoyed them so much, it couldn’t be all bad could it?

The bar wasn’t far from Tidmouth Sheds, in the industrial part of town nearest the tracks. The place mostly catered to the working class, and remained fairly discreet and nondescript even though sodomy had been decriminalized years before. 

They made their way across the railway yard, forced to go slowly mostly due to Edward. In the dark night, the blue engine was completely blind and dependant on James to lead him as they walked across the uneven gravel ballast. Edward’s hand gripped James’ shoulder tightly, and the younger engine would occasionally murmur a warning of “tracks” or “step up.” Gordon and Henry were a few steps behind them, walking hand in hand as they kept an eye on the other two. 

It was late on a Friday night and that meant the bar was jumping. Upon opening the door, they were met with a wall of sound and light. Though the outside of the bar was plain, the inside was a colorful array of lights and music. People filled the bar, mostly men but there were women too, all talking and laughing with each other happily. Some were dancing to the music, while others sat in darkened booths for a bit of privacy as they got more intimate with partners. 

Sam led his group over to the bar, where his boyfriend Aaron was serving up drinks. “Hey, baby. How’s the scene tonight?”

“Hi Honey.” Aaron leaned over the bar to give his boyfriend a kiss, passing over a mug of beer as he did so. “Pretty quiet tonight. No one’s exited through any of the windows, so it looks like George finally got the hint about Jamie having a new boyfriend. Only two fights so far, few yelling matches. The night is still young.”

Sam laughed, taking a sip of his beer with a sigh. “Well, I brought some friends with me tonight. You know Gordon, meet Henry, Edward, and James.”

“Evening, boys. I don’t suppose you drink?”

“Ah, no. I don’t think we do.” Edward blinked and squinted as he looked around, still trying to get used to the colorful lights of the dance floor. Every light seemed to have a rainbow halo around it, which was beginning to give him a headache. 

“A shame. Well, enjoy the club. The queens will be coming onstage in a bit; you’ll want to get a good seat for that.” Aaron moved away to tend to his other patrons. 

Though the environment of the bar was louder and more crowded than the engines were used to, soon they began to relax. Henry felt his toe tapping to the beat of the music as he watched couples in tight embraces sway along on the dance floor. In a moment of inspiration, he grabbed Gordon’s hand and pulled him to his feet. “Come dance with me.”

Gordon’s eyes went wide. “In front of everyone? People will see us.” Though the Fat Controller had accepted their relationship, he had been very strict that they keep it private and out of sight of anyone outside Tidmouth Sheds. 

“Look around, Gordon. I don’t think anyone will care.” Copying the people around them, Henry put his hands on his partner’s waist and started leading him in a clumsy dance. Gordon was stiff, large hands resting on Henry’s shoulders awkwardly, but he gradually began to relax when he realized that no one was looking at them. 

Edward and James, meanwhile, were content to sit and cuddle on a bench in the corner as they watched the humans around them. Edward didn’t want to try and deal with the crowded bar with as little vision as he had, and Sam had left them in order to go and greet friends of his across the room. 

“I guess this is nice,” Edward murmured into his partner’s neck, fingers drumming on his leg to the music all around. 

“It’s not a dark corner behind the sheds, but it’s not bad.” James agreed; arms wrapped securely around the older engine. This was quite the change for them, but not necessarily an unpleasant one. He especially enjoyed the music, and hoped that maybe later in the night Edward would feel comfortable enough to dance with him.

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the bar changed. People started migrating towards one end of the room, and the noise level increased from friendly conversation to excited cheering. Sam suddenly appeared and pulled both of them off their bench, tugging them towards the epicenter of whatever was happening. 

“What’s going on?” James kept a tight grip on Edward, keeping the blue engine close to his side as Sam pushed through the crowd of people. 

“It’s Drag night. Come on.” They emerged at the front of the crowd, against a small stage that stood at the end of the bar. Henry and Gordon were there as well, looking equally confused as to what was happening. Around them, the crowd quieted as the lights dimmed and loud music began to play. 

A figure stepped out onto the stage, which was brightly lit with overhead lights. The human wore some kind of elaborate dress with hugely fluffed up hair and more makeup than the engines had ever seen on a single person before. The performer began to dance and sing with the music while the bar patrons hooted and hollered. 

“Who is that?” James looked over at Gordon’s driver with utter confusion. 

“That is Mama Tits. She’s a drag queen.” Sam pursed his lips as he tried to think of the best way to describe drag. “Drag Queens are gay men that dress up like exaggerated, over-the-top women.”

“Why?” 

“For fun, to entertain.” Because sometimes its tiring adhering to society’s strict gender roles and one finds freedom in breaking out of them in such a ridiculous manner. Not that Sam said that last part, he knew the engines had only a loose grasp on human gender as it was. 

They seemed satisfied with that answer and turned back to watching the show. Now items of clothing were coming off, and there was a lot of shaking and wiggling around going on. The audience cheered their appreciation as the drag queen did things that the engines had been told were considered quite lewd. It was fun to watch, though, with a lot of flashy dance moves and colorful costume pieces. More queens came on stage, inspiring much cheering from the audience. The energy of the room was infectious, and the engines found themselves clapping along even though they had only the vaguest idea of what was going on. 

In the middle of a big number, the drag queens onstage suddenly jumped down and made their way through the crowd. Henry stiffened when one pressed her chest against his, and Edward let out a yelp when another queen suddenly pinched his butt. It was all in good fun, though, as proven when they did the same to others in the crowd as well. With a fresh uproar of cheering and clapping the performances finished and the crowd began to disperse. 

“Well, hello Sam.” Mama Tits sauntered over to the group, giving Sam a hug and a kiss that left a huge red lip mark on his cheek. “I see you brought some friends with you.” She caught sight of Edward and gasped, “Oh, darling, what happened?” 

Edward couldn’t help but flinch as she laid a hand on his face, even though he knew the touch would not hurt in his human form. “It’s nothing. I was in a train wreck, we hit a lorry and there was an explosion. I’ll be fine.”

“Hello Mama.” Sam tried to deflect attention from Edward’s injuries and turned to indicate the engines. “Meet Gordon, Henry, Edward, and James. They’re good friends of mine, they also work for the Northwestern; this is their first time here.”

“First timers!” The drag queen’s drawn-on eyebrows almost vanished into her hairline and she ushered them over towards a booth so they wouldn’t have to stand around. “Did you bring me new gays again, Sam?”

“You say that like it’s a routine thing.” They all took seats, forced to sit hip to hip at the small booth. “But yes, I did. Their, ah, boss won’t allow them be out, so I thought they might have fun coming here.”

“Oh, I know what that’s like,” Mama Tits commiserated, “Kissed my boyfriend once, two days later I get word that I’m being ‘let go.’ Don’t let them get you down, babies. A good man is hard to find, and they are more important than any stupid job in the world.”

The engines all made similar horrified expressions at the thought that anything could be more important than their job. Sam sighed. He, and the other drivers, had always been a bit annoyed at the Fat Controller’s emphasis on being “useful” above all else, though he understood that it was an attempt to keep the engines focused on their jobs. There had been talk a few years back about modernizing the railways of Sodor, as had been done on the mainland, but Sir Topham had put his foot down. He would continue to run the railway just as efficiently with the old steam engines as he could with new diesels, even better, he claimed. This required the old engines to continue to work hard and take on large workloads. Combine that with an engine’s natural drive to please humans and it could become almost an obsession with some.

“Work is important,” Sam amended, “Don’t let your relationship interfere with it. But, remember that your own well being is important too. Never be afraid to ask for some personal time for yourselves.”

Mama Tits laughed and shook her head. “You railway men, you’re almost married to your jobs.”

“Well, I can’t marry my boyfriend so I had to find something.” Sam cracked, both of them dissolving into laughter. 

Conversation turned to lighter things, and soon the engines found themselves relaxing enough to speak about themselves. Mama Tits seemed very interested in hearing about their relationships, and turned out to be surprisingly empathetic and encouraging. They were smart enough to omit enough of the truth to prevent her from realizing they weren’t human, at least, so Sam didn’t have to do too much damage control. This had been the entire point of bringing them here, to get the engines to relax and get more comfortable. Sam had seen how jumpy and nervous they got sometimes, always watching to make sure there was no one around to see them. Henry and Gordon especially, since it had been them that the Fat Controller had seen kissing at a station and then reprimanded them sharply for it.

As they talked, James noticed that the drag queen kept staring at him with a curious expression on her face. 

“Have you ever tried drag, James?” Mama Tits finally asked, already making plans in her mind. 

“Um, no?”

Mama Tits leapt to her feet, shoving Sam out of the booth before grabbing James by the wrist. “What a waste, you’re such a cutie. We’ll just have to fix that, come along darling.” With that, she hauled James out of his seat and started marching him towards the backstage door.

Edward watched them go with an expression of worry. “What’s happening? Will he be okay?”

“He’s going to be just fine, Edward,” Sam patted the blue engine’s hand and stood up as well. “Come dance with me.”

“But, uh-“

“It’s perfectly alright to dance with your friends.” Sam gently tugged Edward to his feet, “I promise not to run you into anyone.”

“I don’t think I can dance.” Edward admitted. He wasn’t particularly graceful on his feet as a human as it was, dancing was probably out of the question. 

“Neither can I, doesn’t matter.” Sam guided the engine’s hands to his waist, then started leading him in a slow swaying dance. He was glad it wasn’t karaoke night, or a Saturday, when they liked to play fast-paced rock and roll music. “So, how are you doing?”

“I’m alright.” Edward slowly relaxed, trusting Sam to keep him from hitting anyone and instead simply enjoyed the music. “It is getting a bit frustrating not being able to see.”

Though he didn’t often talk to engines besides his own, Sam could still tell that something was bothering Edward. “That’s not everything, is it. What’s up?”

Edward sighed heavily. “I’m worried.” He admitted quietly. “About what will happen when I get my bandages off in a month. What if I still can’t see? What if I never get to go back to my branchline?”

That was a completely valid concern. Sam knew that Charlie and Sidney had similar worries, though they avoided voicing them around their engine. “I’d tell you not to worry, but I doubt it’d do any good. Let’s look at it this way. Worst case scenario, they take off the eyepatch and nada; you can see nothing and your eyesight is just as impaired as it is now. What work are you doing now?”

“I’ve been double-heading goods trains with James for the Earl of Sodor.” Edward said with some confusion, unsure of where this was going. 

“And is the job absolutely awful, or is it okay?”

“Well, I like it okay.” He wasn’t particularly fond of heavy goods trains, but it did mean that he got to spend most of his day in James’ company. It had been a long time since the two engines had worked together, and Edward had almost forgotten how pleasant the red engine could be when he didn’t feel the need to show off in front of the others. Now that the two were officially in a relationship, Edward cherished the time spent with his partner even more. “The trains are long and heavy, but I like being able to spend time with James.”

“And would it be so bad if you had to continue doing this? The Fat Controller doesn’t want you to be miserable; if the worst happens I’m sure he’ll find a way for you to keep at your job.” At least, that’s what Sam hoped. 

This seemed to satisfy Edward, though, because he relaxed and gave Sam a smile of thanks. 

James was incredibly confused and somewhat concerned as he was led through a door into a darkened hallway. “Where are we going?”

“Don’t you worry, darling. Mama will take good care of you,” The drag queen that had his arm in a tight grip reassured. 

At the end of the hallway was an open door, light spilling out from it and illuminating the carpeted floor. Inside was a small, incredibly messy room. A large mirror took up most of the far wall, while everything else was covered in piles of glittery, sequined clothing, makeup, and fake hair in all shades of the rainbow. There were also two other drag queens, who looked up curiously when they walked in. 

“Ladies, meet James. He’s been looking down and out all night, so I think it’s time to make him feel beautiful.” Mama Tits sat James down in a chair in front of the mirror, and he couldn’t help but stare. He very rarely got to see what he looked like, and had never really looked at his human form before. It was very strange. He looked surprisingly tired, a result of the stress of the last few months, with bags under his eyes and slumped shoulders. No wonder Mama Tits had seemed worried for him. 

His jacket and shirt were removed and tossed into a corner of the room, vanishing when they hit the floor. Fortunately, the queens were too distracted applying some kind of cream to his face to notice. 

“So, how long have you been with your boyfriend?” Mama Tits asked casually, sifting through piles of makeup supplies while another queen brushed back James’ hair. 

“Edward?” James was doing his best to stay still, but couldn’t help the jerk of surprise at the choice of subject. “Um. We’ve been together about a week? We’ve known each other for years, though. I just was too afraid to say anything.”

“We all know that feeling, honey.” One of the other queens patted his shoulder kindly before kneeling down in front of him to brush pink blush onto his cheeks. “Being in love can be scary. Now, how did you meet this man of yours?”

“Through work.” James said vaguely. He had to be careful to not make them suspect his true nature. “Edward was the one to show me around when I arrived on the island. He was very kind, the only one who was nice to me really, but he also has a surprising sense of humor.” It was surprising how easy it was to talk about this with the queens, he was always far too nervous to talk about it with Edward. “I knew what I felt, and I was scared. So I was rude and mean to him instead, hoping if I pushed him away maybe my feelings would go away too. Obviously, it didn’t work.”

The others nodded sympathetically. 

“We have all had that moment, darling.” Mama Tits soothed. “Now hold still and don’t blink, gotta put on this eyeliner.” James stiffened as directed and tried his hardest not to flinch as the black eyeliner pencil was pressed to his eyelid. “I bet you every single person in this bar could tell you something similar. There’s that moment when you realize that you aren’t like everybody else. That your kind of love is something ‘wrong.’ It’s scary. And then maybe you hate yourself for awhile, try to deny it. Some deny it so thoroughly they get married and are miserable for the rest of their lives. It’s good that you had the courage to get out there and stand up for yourself. Never let anybody tell you there’s something wrong with you because there isn’t.”

James could feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, and it had nothing to do with the eyeliner pencil. He held them in through sheer force of will, not wanting to ruin the makeup work they had been doing, “Thank you.”

“They don’t call her Mama Tits just ‘cause she’s busty.” One of the other queens called from where she was sifting through piles of clothing. “Every time I turn around, she’s adopted a new gay.”

“You hush, Chi Chi,” Mama Tits rolled her eyes good-naturedly and put down the eyeliner, reaching instead for eyeshadow. “You’ve found yourself a good one with Sam, though. He’s been around the community for a long time, there’s no better person to go to for advice.”

“All of our- the drivers have been really nice about this. I wasn’t what I expected.” James admitted. He had expected disapproval, or maybe cool indifference. Not for his driver to plan him dates and find ways to get him and Edward alone time. 

“That’s good. Much better than the co-workers who give you the stink-eye and talk behind your back.” Setting aside the eyeshadow palette, Mama Tits took up the lipstick and gently grabbed James’ chin. He was forced to purse his lips and had to strongly resist the urge to lick his lips when she finished. “There, all done with the makeup. Take a look.”

James almost didn’t recognize himself in the mirror. His entire appearance had changed, from a tired old engine to a polished, perfectly done up drag queen. It was strange, but not bad. They had at least used bright reds for the makeup. 

“You look beautiful, honey.” Mama Tits tugged him to his feet, “Now, some clothes. Ladies, what do we have in red?”

A dress was procured from the piles of fabric, bright red and covered in fringe. Chi Chi helped James struggle into a padded bra, while Mama Tits peeled off his pants. Once the dress was on, James gave it a swish and enjoyed the sound and feel of all the fringe wooshing about. This was certainly more fun than pants and a shirt. As he moved, all the tiny pieces of fringe shook and tickled against his legs. 

Next up was hair, thankfully not the enormous coiffures of the queens but instead a short-cut wig with some body that matched his usual reddish-brown locks. Mama Tits carefully pinned the wing to his head, then offered up a pair of low heels for him to put on. The heels proved to be the hardest part, though they weren’t like the terrifying stilettos that Mama Tits and Chi Chi wore, James still wobbled badly as he tried to take a few steps. 

“First steps are always the hardest.” Mama Tits held onto his elbow and supported him as he carefully walked around the room. He soon got the hang of it, though, and was walking unassisted in minutes. 

“Ready to go see your man?” 

James hesitated. What would Edward think? Would he think his partner looked silly, all dressed up in makeup and drag? 

Mama Tits could see his indecision. “You look great, honey. Don’t worry. Now hold your head high , and walk like you’re the baddest bitch in the room. Remember, the bigots and haters aren’t even worth your time.”

With the three drag queens at his side, James held his chin high and strutted back into the bar. Everyone stopped and stared when he entered, not with hatred or disgust but with appreciation and admiration. James smiled, reminded of the summer days when people would wave and cheer besides the tracks when he rolled by. 

Reaching the dance floor, James’ face fell when he found Edward slowly dancing with Henry. Gordon was across the room, in some kind of conversation with human gentleman and completely unbothered that his partner was dancing with someone else. “Edward?” He asked quietly, confused and perhaps a bit hurt.

Edward turned, his eye widening when he saw the red engine. “James?” He broke away from Henry and came closer, lightly placing his hands on James’ shoulder and he took in his partner’s new appearance. “You look splendid.”

“You were dancing with Henry.” James stated awkwardly, hands at his sides. 

“Well, yes. I was dancing with Sam, but he left to dance with his boyfriend instead. I had to have someone lead me so I wouldn’t hit anyone.” Edward smiled and rubbed James’ shoulders encouragingly. “But now you’re back. Would you like to dance?”

“I’d love to.” James realized that he was being a bit silly. Just because he and Edward were together didn’t mean that the blue engine couldn’t still spend time with their friends. “So, you don’t think I look silly, with all this stuff on?”

“Of course not,” Edward ran a hand through the fringe that hung from the sleeves of the dress. “This is a bit fun. Besides, I love you for you; I don’t care what you look like.”

“Wow, James. Almost didn’t recognize you.” Sam commented as he and Aaron came closer to the couple. “You make a really great drag queen. We’ll have to come up with a name for you?”

“Name?” James wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. He was very fond of his name, and remembered the long process that had gone into choosing it. 

“Most drag queens don’t go by their usual name. They come up with something different.” As Sam explained, he dug in his pocket for a camera. The other drivers would kill him if he didn’t get a photo of this. “Like Mama Tits, or Lypsynca. Now stop a minute and smile.”

The two engines paused for the picture obediently and Sam stifled a laugh. James’ driver was sure going to get a surprise once he got this film developed. 

“I think you look great, James.” Henry offered, having gone to fetch Gordon before returning to the dance floor. The big blue engine nodded, a hint of a smile on his face, before he turned back to face his partner. 

This was just the confidence boost James needed, and a happy smile stretched across his face for the rest of the night. Several times other men asked to dance with him, but James turned them down. He only wanted to spend the time with Edward. 

“It’s alright if you want to dance with someone else.” The blue engine said kindly, but James only shook his head. 

“Not tonight. Maybe a different time.”

The night couldn’t last forever, though. They all had work the next day, after all, and it wouldn’t do to stay up all night dancing. Sam always went home after his boyfriend Aaron finished up working at the bar, and at that time he rounded the engines up by the door. “Sorry guys, but it’s time to go.”

They all made sounds of disappointment; they had been having fun and didn’t want to leave, but understood that if they didn’t go now they would all end up unbearably tired the next day. 

“Maybe we can come back next week.” Sam offered. He knew this had been a good idea, no matter what the other crews thought.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghost stories in this chapter are based off of ones I found doing some searching for "ghost train stories." (including the famous Lincoln Ghost train tale, and tale of the "silver run tunnel") I unfortunately am not much of a ghost story teller. 
> 
> Also, Millie/Caitlin is officially my favorite crack!ship. They haven't even been onscreen at the same time as eachother, but I can't help but think they'd be adorable together. The fandom also has a tragic lack of fem!slash.

The next morning dawned bright and cold. It was officially December, which meant they could expect snow any day now. The forecast called for a few inches to fall in the next few days, though the weather on Sodor could be notoriously unreliable. 

Rick smirked as he looked up at his very tired engine. James had been having trouble getting up, yawning and squinting in the weak winter sun. “You guys have fun last night then?”

That brought a sleepy smile, at least. “We did. Some drag queens took me and gave me a makeover.”

“What?!” 

Laughter from the next stall over drew his attention. 

“He looked very good,” Edward reassured, “Mama Tits did a very good job on it.”

“Mama Tits?!” This did not seem to bring any comfort to Rick. 

“Please tell me Sam took pictures,” Charlie was listening to the conversation with amusement as he oiled Edward’s drive train. 

“He took a couple of us.” Edward noted. Sam had demanded various poses and photo locations from them for a good portion of the night. 

“Good. Can’t wait to see. Maybe we’ll put them on the wall.” The walls of the shed were decorated in photographs, mostly newspaper clippings or prints of the engines. Charlie thought photos of James in drag would make a good addition indeed. 

The two engines started out from the shed and headed for Ulfstead, the brisk wind whipping against their warm boilers and forcing their crews to huddle closer to the firebox. They were to pick up empty trucks from the castle; then take them to the docks to be loaded up with a shipment of more materials for the new addition. Dark clouds offshore threatened precipitation, so everyone was quite eager to get the job done and get home. 

At the castle, the new building appeared to be coming along nicely. At the least, it was starting to look more like an actual structure and less like a hole in the ground. The cut stone was stacked high, each piece precisely placed to create sturdy walls just like the original castle, and a scaffolding had been put up to support what would become the roof. It was a very impressive sight indeed, and blended perfectly with the already existing structures on the property. 

“Hello James, hello Edward,” Sir Robert came out to greet them in Millie, wearing a woolen coat, scarf, and hat to fend off the cold. “What do you think of it so far?”

“It’s looking really good, sir.” James commented as he very carefully backed up to Edward, who had already been coupled up to their train. “I can’t believe you got so much done so quickly.”

“My crews have been working very hard. We have to get the roof on before the snow comes, so work can start on the interior.” Workers were indeed bustling around the site, lifting up huge planks to fill in the roof.

“Looks like that snow will be coming sooner rather than later,” Charlie leaned out of the cab and shivered, looking up at the sky with a frown. “Come on, boys, we’d better get a move on. I don’t like the looks of that sky.”

The empty trucks rattled along behind them as the two engines made good time to the docks, running as quickly as felt safe in hopes of beating the weather. At the docks things were very busy, as ships worked to load or unload their cargo before the weather front arrived. Every available slip was taken, and other ships would have to seek one of the other sheltered harbors around the island. 

Edward and James had to sit and wait as Cranky unloaded a large tramp steamer. There was no rushing the large harbor crane, he did his work in his own time and screw anyone who complained. This, of course, did not stop James from quietly complaining to Edward. Especially when the first light snowflakes began to fall. Edward groaned as his crew came out to put his tarp back over his bandages to keep them from getting wet.

“Shit,” Rick cursed from inside James’ cab, “It wasn’t supposed to start snowing until tonight. That damn crane had better hurry up.”

“I heard that!” Cranky called down, a deep frown on his face as he set down a pallet of crates with a thump. “Lucky for you, I’m done with this load and it’s your turn now.”

With relief, they moved the train on the track nearest Cranky to be loaded up. The snow fortunately remained light enough to melt on the ground, leaving the tracks wet but clear on the way back to Ulfstead. It did leave the ascent up to the castle slick, though, and both engines felt their wheels slip unpleasantly as they strained up the steep hill. 

Another slippery patch made James’ wheels spin uncontrollably, and that’s when he felt it happen. His side-rod gave up with a mighty crack, sending pain shooting through his axles. His driver immediately shut off steam and gave the whistle a blow to warn Edward of the danger, just in case he hadn’t heard the noise. 

“James, are you okay? What happened?” Edward called with concern as the train ground to a halt. 

“It’s my right side-rod.” James hissed in pain. “I’ve cracked it.”

Edward knew just how painful that could be; he had suffered a similar injury several years before while pulling an enthusiast’s train. “Will you be able to go on? We’re almost to the castle.”

Rick had climbed out to inspect the damage, and shook his head with a sigh. One of the broken ends was dangling freely, and had already done a fair amount of damage to James’ splashers during its brief freewheel. “I’m going to have to get this broken end off, or it’ll just rip up your frame.”

The fireman climbed out to help, as did Charlie and Sidney. Between the four of them, they manage to remove the entire broken side-rod and threw it up into one of the trucks. 

“Alright Edward, you’re going to have to push hard.” Charlie climbed back into the cab. “James doesn’t have a lot of tractive power with his side-rod missing like that, it’s all on you.”

This was a lot to put on a small, old engine, but Edward was determined. Sand was dropped on the rails to help him grip and with every ounce of steam he had Edward pushed James up the hill, pulling the heavy train behind him. It was hard work, and Sidney suggested maybe they should run the trucks down to a siding instead of trying to pull them and push James, but Edward would have none of it. He might be old but he was strong, and he would get them all up to the castle safely. 

The going was slow, but Edward managed to get the train to the castle platform. His face was red and his fire blazing as he pulled to a stop at the platform. He would have liked to stay sitting there for the next week, but there was no time to rest. He pushed James to a siding, then took the trucks over to the build site so they could be unloaded by the human crews. 

“Oh my,” Sir Robert gasped when he saw the state the two engines were in. James with his missing siderod and badly scratched splashers, and Edward looking absolutely exhausted with a blue tarp covering half his face. “You two will have to stay here tonight, I insist on it.”

The snow was beginning to fall faster now, and was starting to stick on the grass around the tracks. The crews of both engines agreed, staying at the castle would be safest. They would have to call for someone to take James to the steamworks for repair the next day. 

Stephen was overjoyed to have visitors, and greeted them both warmly as they backed into the shed. “Hello you two. How’s the weather out there?”

“Bad,” James grunted, “It’s snowing harder. The rails are all slippery, and I cracked my damn siderod.”

“I’m sorry lad, I know how that hurts.” Stephen said sympathetically, “Seems like winter has really rolled in with a vengeance this year. I’m glad to have this shed.”

The shed was indeed warming up nicely from the heat coming off their boilers, and the human crews were able to shed their thick coats as they went about their tasks. Edward sighed happily when the tarp over his face was removed, while James only grumbled as his driver tried to take a better look at the damage to his right side. 

Everyone in the shed cringed when the doors opened, letting in the bitingly cold outside air. An engine backed into the empty berth next to Stephen. Edward couldn’t see the new engine very well, just a large pinkish blob, but there was only one engine painted that garish color, “Caitlin? What are you doing here?”

“Hello Edward! Oh, and hello James!” Caitlin was, as always, exuberant and very excited, “I just dropped off some school children. They’re having a sleepover at the castle. What are you doing here?”

“James broke his side-rod, so we’re staying here for the night.” Edward explained. He hoped that Caitlin had managed to calm down a little since her last night on Sodor, when no one had gotten any sleep at all. 

“Oh, that’s terrible. But I’m happy to see you. We’ll be having our very own sleepover!” 

“Oh joy.” James muttered from Edward’s other side. 

The shed doors opened one last time, announcing the arrival of Millie. All four stalls were taken, so Millie backed into the one Stephen was using. Fortunately, both engines were fairly small and could fit if they pressed buffer to buffer. 

“Sorry about this Millie and Stephen,” Sir Robert stepped down from Millie’s cab, looking around the crowded shed. “I didn’t realize we were going to have more guests. You’ll all be safe and warm at least. Edward, James, I’ll arrange for a car to take your crew back to their homes. I doubt they want to spend the night in the castle with fifty schoolchildren.”

“You got that right.” Charlie laughed as he stepped down from Edward’s cab. 

“We’ll get you fixed up right tomorrow, don’t worry.” Rick ran a hand along James’ driving wheels, where his side-rod had been removed. Then, all the humans departed and only the engines were left in the shed. 

Edward immediately transferred over to his human form and slowly made his way over to James. The red engine met him halfway, the two embracing fondly where they were safely out of the view of the other engines. 

“Are you really okay, James?” Edward asked after giving his partner a kiss. 

“It hurts a bit,” Though the twinges of pain were fainter when he was in his human form like this, he could still feel the ache where his side-rod had been removed. By morning it would probably fade to nothing, but for now it was still a bit raw. 

On the other side of the shed, Caitlin was far too excited to relax for the evening just yet. “This is going to be so much fun! Ooh, oooh, we should tell scary stories. That’s what people do during sleepovers.”

“Maybe just a few,” Stephen conceded, knowing that trying to deny Caitlin something she wanted was nothing short of impossible. Hopefully, indulging her a bit would satisfy her and they’d be able to get some peace tonight. “Edward, James, would you like to join in?”

They didn’t really have much choice, the sheds were so small it would be impossible to block out the voices of the other occupants. 

The group gathered in a loose circle, sitting on the stone floor between Caitlin and Millie’s bodies. It was easier to talk face-to-face using their human forms, and Caitlin had also insisted on being “authentic.” The lights in the shed were turned off, and instead a headlamp was put in the center of the circle to cast a little light. 

Edward and James were a bit wary of being close in sight of Caitlin, she was an engine from the mainland and they didn’t know how she would react to their relationship. But then Millie plopped herself down in the streamlined engine’s lap with a warm smile. Caitlin immediately looked embarrassed, glancing over at Edward and James nervously. “Millie-“

“It’s fine,” Millie waved her hand dismissively, “Those two are also in a relationship. I don’t think they will say anything.”

“Wait, the two of you? Are together?” James wasn’t quite sure how to process this information. “When did-“

“I guess we just hit it off,” Millie said with a smile, giving Caitlin a kiss on the cheek. “She’s my Amazon.”

“And you are my little Petite,” Caitlin nuzzled the narrow-gauge engine in return. Millie rolled her eyes at the pet name. Attempts to teach Caitlin French had been less-than-successful, but it was cute hearing her try. 

James opened his mouth, presumably to make a rude comment, but Edward shushed him with a simple look and shifted closer until his side was pressed against the red engine. “Hush, they’re happy and that’s what matters. And it means we can enjoy each other’s company tonight without worrying.”

“Alright,” Stephen clapped his hands together, signaling a return to the subject at hand. “Now, since we all have work to do tomorrow, I don’t want you young-ins to stay up all night. How about each of us gets to tell one story?”

“Awww,” Caitlin pouted. She had so many stories she wanted to tell! But she knew Stephen was right, it was irresponsible to stay up all night when others wanted to sleep. “Well, I guess I’ll go first. Unless someone else wants to?”

The others shook their heads. If Caitlin wanted to go first, it was fine with them. 

“Okay,” Caitlin leaned forward and lowered her voice to something a little more ‘spooky.’ “I don’t tell this story often, because I don’t want to scare anybody. But I think you all are brave enough to handle it.” She paused for a moment and looked around to see if anyone would challenge that statement. James looked rather offended that she had implied he might not be brave enough for her story, but the others simply displayed polite interest. 

A nudge from Millie spurred Caitlin to continue on, “This tale is absolutely true, I swear it on my boiler. I know, because I saw this myself. 

“This happened many years ago, back when I still worked on the east coast of the United States. I was heading back from New York late one evening, when word came down that there was trouble on the line. A derail or something, it’s been so long I don’t quite remember now. Anyway, I ended up having to spend the night in a siding, due to blockage on the line. My crew left, and I was all alone in the woods. 

“It must have been about midnight when I saw a light coming down the line headed towards me. I thought it was a train who didn’t know about the blocked line, so I called out. ‘Hello! Hello!’ but I didn’t hear anything in return. As the train grew closer, I noticed something strange. I couldn’t hear the engine chuffing, or the click clack of wheels. In fact, it was completely silent. 

“Finally, I was able to see the engine itself. It was an old design, very old, with a huge diamond shaped spark arrestor and a long cow catcher. Nothing like that had run along the line in many years. The engine was draped in black crepe, and didn’t look at me once as it rolled past. I could see right into the cab, and there was no driver or fireman inside. It was very strange. How could the engine be driving itself without a crew?

“The engine was pulling a train of several flatbed cars. I thought I could hear music, something playing slow and sad. It was very faint, but seemed to be coming from an orchestra seated on one of the flatbeds. Only the instruments were not being played by humans. They were being played by skeletons! I knew then that this was no living train, it was a train of the dead. 

“Behind it was another engine, pulling a line of coaches that were all draped in black crepe and fabric. People walked alongside it, dressed in blue military uniforms. I would have thought they were human, except that I could see right through them. None looked at me as they marched past, they only had eyes for the fine coach. 

“The train continued on into the night, chugging steadily northward as it pulled away from me. I glanced off down the track the way it had come, wondering what would come next, and when I looked back the train had gone. Vanished completely. 

“The next morning, I thought maybe I had been dreaming the night before. Or imagined the whole ghostly train. But then I noticed that the clock on every station we passed through was running exactly 6 minutes late. So were the trains, and all the clocks on the railway. I asked a stationmaster, and he told me that it was because the Funeral Train had gone by in the night, and stopped time as it had passed.”

There was a long silence in the shed. No one had expected such a serious, or scary tale. James was clutching Edward’s hand tightly, a forced expression of calm fixed on his face. 

Only Stephen seemed unimpressed. He was a steadfast non-believer in the paranormal, the occasional early morning fright aside, and had an eyebrow raised skeptically. “Are you sure it wasn’t just a dream, or maybe a weird coincidence?”

“That’s what I thought!” Caitlin didn’t seem offended at all at the question, she was eager to talk more about the encounter. “I asked my driver and he says lots of people have seen the funeral train. I guess it’s known to come around on April 27th every year, and sometimes the workmen will line the tracks for a chance to get a look at it. It’s very famous, I bet people probably still see it now.”

Stephen didn’t look quite convinced, but also wasn’t about to start an argument. The theme of the night was “scary stories” after all, and one didn’t get into a debate about the existence of the paranormal during a sleep over. “Well, it was a very good story, Caitlin. A good way to start us off for the evening. I suppose I’ll go next then?” He asked after a glance about the circle. “Unless you want to go, Millie?”

“Oh no, you go right ahead, Stephen.” The little French engine seemed to be quite comfortable curled up in Caitlin’s lap and was not inclined to move, “I like to listen to stories more than tell them anyway.”

“Alright then,” Stephen sat back and thought for a moment, rifling through his mental catalogue of all the stories he’d collected over the years. He needed something impressive to compete with Caitlin’s offering, and none of the younger engines were around so he didn’t need to worry about telling something too scary. “This is a story that I heard when I worked at the docks. The sailing men love to tell tales, and this one often made the rounds when a new ship came into port. 

“Now, this was back in the days of the sailing ships, big tall riggers with square sails. Back then the arctic was new territory, and many ships tried to traverse the dangerous ice in search of shorter passage or valuable hunting grounds. Many failed. 

“A big whaling ship was sailing off the coast of Greenland, headed for the arctic whaling grounds, when they sighted a ship in the distance. It was a three-masted schooner, adrift in the ice fields. No sails were raised, and they could see no one on the deck. Ice hung from her spars and rigging. 

“The captain sent over a boarding party on a longboat to investigate. As they climbed on board, the ship was completely silent. The men called, trying to hail the ship’s unseen crew, but there was no response. The deck was thick with snow, pristine and unmarred by footprints. 

“The men pried open the main hatchway and descended down into the ship. Everything inside was frozen, it seemed that nothing had moved in a long time. And there, they finally found the crew. The men had all been frozen in place, perfectly preserved where they sat or lay. Even the Captain, who was seated at his desk with a pen in his hand and the log book open in front of him. The unfinished entry he had been working on was dated thirteen years previously, and the location was given as being off the coast of Alaska. The ship had apparently made her passage through the north frozen in the ice even after the crew had died. 

“Spooked, the whalers abandoned the vessel and went back to their own without attempting to salvage the ghost ship. She was left to drift with the arctic ice and winds, with no crew to tend her sails or control her course. Most ships would have sunk, succumbing to the harsh arctic seas. But this one remained afloat, drifting through the arctic for many years. Hunters, whalers, and native peoples have all seen her, some have even boarded her. But no one has ever managed to salvage her. She is probably up there still, in the ice with her frozen crew, trying to complete the journey that she set out for so many years before.”

“Did that really happen?” Caitlin whispered in awe after a long moment of silence, “Wow. The ocean is so scary. It was bad enough when I crossed the Atlantic to get here, I can’t imagine going through the arctic with all the ice and everything.”

“I think I’ve heard about that.” Edward, with his branch line that ended at Brendam Docks, had heard his share of tall tales of the sea. “Though, I thought it was a cargo steamer, not a sailing ship.”

“I may have combined more than one story,” Stephen admitted, “You know how it goes, over the years things blend together and you can’t remember what detail happened when. But I can tell you that most of that story is very true.”

“I think I’ve heard it too.” James commented, “The beginning parts, at least.”

“It’s a very old story, been around longer than I have.” Stephen had first heard the tale when he had been fairly young, working at the docks, but even then the sailors telling it stated that it was an old tale. “You know ghost stories are, they spread like wildfire but the details always get a little fuzzy. You can ask ten different people and get ten different renditions of the same story.”

“Well I told my story just the way it really happened,” Caitlin insisted, “I saw it myself. I’ll never forget it as long as I live. Never believed in ghosts before that, but now I know they’re real.”

“I don’t really think ghosts exist. I’ve been around a long time, and I’ve never seen or heard anything that couldn’t be explained rationally.” Stephen gave James a look; he still recalled the prank the red engine had played on him and Percy. In the dark night, the strange sounds of owls hooting and whistles blowing had seemed very scary indeed. But as suspected, the “Phantom Express” had just been a story made up by James, and all the noises where either James trying to be scary or the natural sounds of the night.

James grinned sheepishly. It had been a very funny joke at the time, until Percy and Stephen had fallen into the moat. “I think ghosts exist. I mean, I’ve never actually seen one myself, but they’re out there. I’ve heard too many stories about weird things happening to not believe. Not that I’m scared of them or anything.”

“Oh really? Wasn’t it you who ran screaming from the ‘Phantom Express?’” Millie had not been there for the incident, but had certainly heard about it from Stephen. She thought it was hilarious that such a boastful engine had scared himself with his own stories. 

James sputtered, face turning bright red. “I wasn’t scared! I was just. . . surprised, is all. And worried about Percy and Stephen. They had just disappeared, and I went to get help.”

Millie didn’t believe that for a second, but knew the point wasn’t worth contesting. When confronted, James had a habit of digging his wheels in and not budging for anything. Instead, she looked over at the only engine who hadn’t chimed in, “What about you, Edward? Do you believe in ghosts?”

Edward hesitated, looking down at the stone floor of the shed. It was common knowledge that he always denied the existence of ghosts or monsters when the subject came up in conversation at Tidmouth Sheds. This was mostly due to the presence of the younger engines, like Thomas and Percy, who he knew were easily scared and often took things too far in consequence. But now the younger engines weren’t here, and he didn’t have the responsibility of being the voice of reason. “I do believe in ghosts. Because, I’ve seen one for myself.”

James looked at his partner in surprise, “But, you’re always saying ghosts aren’t real.”

“That’s just because I don’t want to scare the young engines. I don’t happen to think it’s funny, like you do.” Edward gave the red engine a nudge, showing his statement was only in teasing. 

“Well?” Caitlin insisted. There was no way she was going to let him leave it at that. “Dish! What happened when you saw your ghost?”

“Well. This was a long time, back when I still worked on the Mainland.” Edward tipped his head back as he thought back into his past, to something that he usually tried his hardest to forget. “There was a tunnel along one of the branch lines. Everyone hated that tunnel, and many refused to enter after dark. Stories were told about it, that it was haunted, that bad things happened to engines that entered. 

“I didn’t believe in the stories, and neither did my driver. He thought it was a bunch of nonsense. Then one day, I got assigned to take a slow goods train along the branch line in the late evenings. The tunnel was pitch black as I approached, my headlamp doing almost nothing to illuminate the insides. Just as I was about to enter the tunnel, a woman in a white dress suddenly appeared on the tracks in front of me. She was screaming and crying, I tried to apply my brakes but my driver wouldn’t let me. I closed my eyes and waited to feel the impact, but there was nothing. When I opened my eyes again, she was gone. 

“If it had only happened once, I would have passed it off as a hallucination brought on by over work, but the other engines of the railway and their crews reported similar sightings of a woman in a white dress. Only in or just before the tunnel, nowhere else. I saw her many more times, any time I had to go through that tunnel after dark, in fact. 

“A number of years later, just before I left for Sodor in fact, they tore out the walls of the old tunnel for an expansion project. Behind the brick walls they found a skeleton wearing a white dress. They gave the skeleton a proper burial, and no one saw the ghost again.”

Edward became aware of James rubbing his back comfortingly, and he leaned into the touch with a sigh. He hadn’t told that story in many decades, partially because he didn’t want to frighten the young engines but also because he knew that people probably wouldn’t believe him anyway. 

“Welp, I’m afraid I don’t have an explanation for that one.” Stephen admitted. “That’s a hell of a story, Edward. Glad to hear whoever it was found some peace, though.”

“Yeah. I guess it’s one of the few ghost stories that has a happy ending, of sorts.” It was a small comfort, at least. “I haven’t seen any ghosts since coming to Sodor, so I don’t know if it was a one-time thing or what. But I know what I saw, and I’ll never be able to forget it.” Leaving the past behind, Edward turned to look at his partner. “James, you’re next. Did you have a story to tell?”

Normally, the red engine absolutely reveled in telling ghost stories, especially to the easy-scared likes of Percy and Thomas. Tonight, though, he just shook his head. “I think I’m good. I don’t think I could follow that story.”

“Well then,” Stephen picked up the headlamp sitting in the center of their circle and stood. “I think that means it’s time for sleep.” There was a quiet “awwwww” from Caitlin. “Sorry Caitlin, but we all have things to do tomorrow. Including you. You don’t want to fall asleep waiting for the bridge again, do you?”

Caitlin frowned at the reminder, but knew Stephen was right. Her driver certainly hadn’t been happy with her when she stayed up all night and then kept falling asleep at signals. Gathering Millie into her arms, Caitlin heaved herself to her feet and carried the little French engine off towards the back of the shed, “Come on, Millie, I guess the party is over.”

Stephen rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything more. He knew that Caitlin and Millie didn’t often get to spend time together, and didn’t mind if they wanted to stay up for a while longer with each other as long as they were quiet. Instead, he just nodded to Edward and James, “Goodnight you two,” and went back to his real body in a shimmer of light.

“I guess that’s our cue to leave,” Edward leaned back to give James a kiss, “Goodnight, James. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Things grew silent in the shed as the engines slipped off to sleep. All except one. In the stall on the end, James found himself unable to relax. Outside the shed the wind was picking up, making the shed doors rattle. Small windows let in weak light from outside, casting strange shadows on the walls that seemed to move and shift. Suddenly, James found himself regretting sitting and joining in with the scary story telling. His all too active imagination was quite capable of providing all kinds of monsters and ghosts that could be making the noises outside or casting the weird shadows. One of the frozen sailors from Stephen’s story could be the source of that strange creaking sound. Or the woman in white from Edward’s story making the soft whistling noise. In the dark, it almost sounded like a scream or cry. 

“There’s nothing out there, there’s nothing out there.” James insisted quietly to himself, “I will not be a scaredy-engine, I will not be a scaredy-engine.”

A big gust of wind blew by and rattled the door in front of him, causing James to jerk backward on his track. The buffers on his tender bumped the rear wall of the shed and James let out a small, frightened cry. In that brief moment of panic, he had imagined a black funeral train buffering up behind him to drag him to the afterlife. It was clear that he would not be getting any sleep tonight. The movement had also renewed the raw ache in his right side where his broken side-rod had torn up his frame. 

“Edward,” James whispered softly. He didn’t really want to wake the blue engine, but some part of him just wanted the comfort of his partner so he didn’t have to deal with the dark shed alone. 

“Mmm, James?” Edward stirred slowly, taking awhile to awaken fully, “Is something wrong, James? What time is it?”

Immediately, James felt regret for waking him up. “Nothing, it’s nothing. I just, couldn’t sleep. It’s pretty late, you should probably just go back to sleep.”

“No, no. It’s okay.” A tired yawn interrupted his words. “Why can’t you sleep, is there something I can do?”

James bit his lip. He didn’t really want Edward to go back to sleep and leave him awake alone again, but he also didn’t want to admit that a few stupid scary stories had scared him so badly. However, Edward was more insightful than James gave him credit for. 

“Was it the stories we were telling?” Edward knew that James could be easily frightened, no matter how vehemently the red engine tried to deny it. The telling of ghost stories at Tidmouth almost always ended with some kind of pranking, screaming, and chaos. 

“. . . Yes.” James finally admitted. He reminded himself that Edward wouldn’t tease him like the other engines would, but couldn’t help being afraid anyway. 

“Would you like to sit with me for awhile?” Edward offered. 

That was the best suggestion he’d heard all night. James shifted over to his human form and crept over into Edward’s cab. Edward waiting there for him, seated on his footplate with his back against his tender. Wordlessly, James joined him and cuddled into his partner’s side. Edward only moved so that he could wrap a hand around the red engine’s shoulders and softly pet his hair. 

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” James felt compelled to say something to explain himself. “I know it’s stupid, I shouldn’t let some stories get to me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being scared.” Edward reassured, resting his head against his partner’s. “Everyone is scared of something, you don’t have to deal with it alone.”

“What are you scared of?” James couldn’t help but be curious after a statement like that.

Well, since it was apparently a night for revealing all. “I’m scared that one day I’ll no longer be needed. That one morning, the Fat Controller will come and tell me that I’m too old to be useful and he’s sending me away. Every time I have a breakdown, or need repairs, I’m terrified that it’ll be my last day on the railway. When I was sitting in the Steamworks after my crash, I dreaded hearing the Fat Controller because I just knew he’d be coming to tell me I was headed for the scrapper.”

“I would never let that happen to you,” James insisted. He didn’t like hearing Edward talk about the possibility of his own death so casually. “I couldn’t bear it if you left me like that.”

“I know, logically, that the Fat Controller wouldn’t do that to me. That he cares about all his engines. But it doesn’t stop me from being afraid.”

“And, I know that ghosts and monsters aren’t actually outside the shed and the sounds I’m hearing are probably just the wind or an owl. But, I’m still scared sometimes.” James admitted. It wasn’t quite as scary when he was sitting here with Edward, though. 

“Well, I won’t let any dumb monsters or ghosts come after you. I may not look it, but I can be pretty scary if I want to. I could scare off a ghost, no problem.”

The mental image of Edward, of all engines, facing off against a fearsome monster made James laugh. The two lapsed into companionable silence as they listened to the winter wind whistle through the castle grounds. Slowly, they drifted off back to sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

Several inches of snow had fallen overnight on the island, and when the engines awoke the world outside the shed was pure, blindingly white. None of the engines at Ulfstead Castle had snowploughs, (well, except Millie, who could only clear the narrow-gauge tracks) so they simply had to sit and wait for another engine to show up to clear the line from the castle. 

A cheery whistle echoed about the grounds, signaling the arrival of Henry. The big green engine was equipped with his snowplough, and had come not only to clear the line for Caitlin but also to fetch James to take him Steamworks. 

“I heard you needed some help,” Henry said by way of greeting as he was slowly spun on the turntable. 

“I broke my side-rod.” James grumbled, expecting to hear some kind of joke from the larger engine. He had certainly teased Henry enough about his frequent breakdowns. 

“I’m sorry, James. That sounds like it hurts.” But Henry didn’t tease him, he was only sympathetic as he carefully backed up and his driver climbed out to couple him up to James. “Don’t worry, I’m here to take you to the Steamworks. Victor will get you fixed up.”

“I’ll see you later, alright James?” Edward could do nothing but sit and watch as Henry slowly chugged away with his partner. The blue engine had to remain there at the shed until someone arrived to escort him to Knapford. He would be working in the shunting yards until James returned from the Steamworks. Hopefully, the repairs wouldn’t take too long. 

“He’ll be okay, Edward. You know Victor will take good care of him,” Charlie reassured, looking up at the sad face of his engine. It had been a long time, but the man could still remember what it felt like to be newly in love. Seeing the person you loved hurt and not being able to be there for them was hard. “Come on, I think Stephen is about ready to go. We need to get down to Knapford.”

Since the other engines were busy clearing the lines after the nights snowfall, Stephen had kindly offered to escort Edward to Knapford on his way to Brendam docks to pick up supplies for the castle kitchen. Knapford wasn’t really on the way to Brendam, but Stephen was nice like that. 

“I’m probably not the fastest escort you’ve had.” Stephen commented as the two made their way out of the castle courtyard. “Sorry you have to follow the slowpoke engine, Edward.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m in a hurry to get anywhere.” Edward settled down into a slow, comfortable trot to match Stephen’s speed. “Thank you for escorting and old, blind engine, I know Knapford is out of your way.”

“I’m always willing to help a friend. And don’t you dare call yourself old, everyone is young to me.” 

That brought a smile from Edward. It was nice to be around engines older than he was for once. “Remind me to come and get you the next time Gordon complains how old I am.”

“I think Mr. Fancy-pants express engine could due to slow down every once and awhile.” Stephen gave his whistle a toot as warning and slowed down to a stop at a red signal. “You just give me a call, and I’ll be happy to switch onto his track for a while.”

Edward chuckled at the thought of Gordon being stuck behind Stephen. “I keep hoping maybe Henry will be a good influence on him. But we might be waiting awhile for that one.”

The two engines shared a good laugh as they pulled into the yards at Knapford. It was unusually empty, and the only other engine there was little Percy returning from shunting Gordon’s express coaches after the completion of the morning run. He gave Edward and Stephen a cheery peep peep before fetching his own train and pulling away. 

It looked like he would be the only engine there that day, until he heard the blare of a diesel horn and a very unwelcome voice. 

“Well would you look at that, it’s a couple of old steamies on their way to the smelter’s yard.” Diesel cackled as he rolled into the shunting yard, a couple empty trucks giggling behind him. 

“Shove off, Mr. Oily-wheels.” Stephen had been around too long to let some young upstart insult him. He felt bad for leaving Edward at the yard alone with Diesel, but needed to get to the docks to get his cargo. If he didn’t make good time, he’d never get back to the castle before dark. “I’ll see you later, Edward. Remember, if you need anything just ask. You know where to find me.”

“Isn’t that cute,” Diesel sneered as Stephen departed the way he had come in. “And here I thought your little boyfriend was James.”

Edward, who had been backing up to a line of trucks, froze in his tracks. Insults directed towards him he could ignore, but no one spoke negatively about James in front of him like that. “James is my partner, yes. Do you have a problem with it, Diesel?”

“The Fat Controller may not mind your sick little relationship, but I always knew steamies were no good. Just you watch, you’ll all be replaced by diesels soon enough.” Having dropped off his trucks and picked up a goods train headed back for Vicarstown, Diesel laughed as he pulled out of the yard. “As much as I’d love to stick around and chat, I have real work to do. Enjoy your shunting.”

Edward didn’t move for several long minutes, even after the black Class 08 had left. He had known that there would be those that didn’t approve of his relationship, but to have to so blatantly shoved in his face like that. It hurt. 

Finally, Charlie nudged the throttle and finished backing him into the line of trucks that needed to be moved. Getting out with the shunter’s pole, he paused and looked up at his engine. “Edward, are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’ll be fine.” Edward tried to look at his driver, but with a familiar feeling of frustration found that he could not pick out the man from the snowy grey gravel ballast he stood on. Here he was again, stuck in the yard good only for shunting.

“Don’t you listen to a word that big bully says. He’s just a jealous asshole.” Charlie advised, walking around to couple up the trucks, “People like him only feel good if they’re busy making others feel bad. “

Sidney, meanwhile, took a slightly different approach to the issue at hand. “What a complete and utter arse. Want me to sneak into his shed and cut his fuel lines tonight?”

“Sidney! No planning sabotage during work,” Charlie admonished as he climbed back up into the cab. 

“Fine. During break then?”

“No sabotage period!”

The antics of his crew was enough to bring a smile to Edward’s face as he went about his shunting. Still, he couldn’t help but worry. 

Now that it was December, the sun was setting earlier than ever. Edward only spent a few hours in the yards before the sky began to grow dark and clouds gathered, threatening more snow. Emily arrived just before nightfall to escort him back to Tidmouth sheds. “Evening Edward, how was your day?”

“It went well enough. Do you know if James is back from the Steamworks yet?” It was probably too soon to hope, but Edward couldn’t help but ask. 

“Not yet. I heard they have to fabricate a whole new side rod for him, so he might be there a few days.”

He’d been afraid of that. With the decline of steam on the mainland, spare parts were getting more difficult to find and repairs were taking longer. They were all just lucky that the Sodor Steamworks had facilities for parts manufacture as well repair. “Oh. Alright.”

“Sorry, Edward. Hopefully, seeing the sheds will help cheer you up. The crews got them all decorated today, it looks great!”

As they pulled into Tidmouth, Edward could see the glow of colorful lights over the shed doors. Christmas lights had been strung up around every doorframe and along the eaves, presumably accompanied by the traditional garlands of holly and ribbons. He couldn’t help but feel the Christmas cheer that the decorations seemed to exude. “It’s lovely. The workmen did a really great job. I only wish I could see it better.”

Emily cringed. She had forgotten about the blue engine’s compromised eyesight, and now felt bad for calling it to mind. “Oh dear, I completely forgot about your eyes. Edward, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-

“It’s fine. Don’t worry, Emily, you didn’t mean any harm. I can see the lights well enough, they’re beautiful. Thank you for escorting me.”

“Of course.” Emily slowed and pulled off onto a siding to let Edward onto the turntable at Tidmouth. “Sorry I can’t stay, but I have another job to do. I’ll see you later.” And she pulled away, leaving Edward alone at the shed. 

With the ease born of years of repetition, Edward’s crew went through the motions of cleaning him up and dumping his fire to ready him for the night. Sidney sighed as he cleaned out the firebox. “I feel a bit bad about leaving him alone like this, Charlie.”

It would be hours before any of the other engines returned, leaving Edward by himself in the dark, cold shed. And it would continue like this for the rest of winter, at least until his bandages were taken off and he could see again. Charlie sighed, “Well, we can’t exactly take him with us, Sid. He won’t fit in the car, and both our houses are too far for his human form to make.”

“I’ll be fine, really.” Edward insisted, perfectly able to hear his crew conversing in his cab. He wasn’t particularly looking forward to being left alone for hours, but had dealt with it before and would deal with it again. 

“Wait, I’ve got an idea.” Sidney suddenly rushed out of the shed and returned a few seconds later with a small portable radio in hand. “Had this in the car from the last time I went out with the missus. At least it’ll give you something to listen to.”

The radio was set in his cab and tuned in to the local Tidmouth station, which played a mixture of top 40 songs as well as listener requests. Music was interspersed with local news and weather reports. The island was expecting another temperature drop and several more inches of snow over the next few days. Good news for the island’s children, not so good for the transportation infrastructure. 

Unable to see anything in the dark outside the shed besides the soft glow of Christmas lights, the radio gave Edward something to concentrate on as he sat and waited. After several hours, the other engines finally returned. Henry was the first back, chuffing backwards into the stall beside Edward with a soft “Good evening Edward.”

“Hello Henry. How was your day?”

“It was alright. Had my usual heavy goods train, and a passenger train to take to Brendam.” Henry frowned, listening to the faint sound of music coming from the blue engine next to him. “Are. . . you listening to music?”

“Oh, yes, I am. My crew left me a radio so I would have something to listen to.” Edward had almost forgotten, the music had become background noise to him. “Do you want me to turn it off?”

“No, it’s fine. I was just wondering where the sound was coming from.” Henry’s face brightened when he saw Gordon coming towards the sheds. “Gordon! Good evening.”

“Hello, Henry.” Gordon’s normally sour face broke into a genuine smile. He backed into the next berth over and, almost before he had stopped, jumped down from his cab and walked over to his partner. Henry met him halfway and the two embraced fondly. 

After giving his partner a kiss, Henry looked over at the sad face of Edward and felt a twinge of sympathy. The blue engine was probably very lonely with James gone at the Steamworks. “Edward, do you want to come and sit outside with us? I know you can’t stargaze, but it’s still a nice place to sit and chat.”

“I don’t want to get in the way.” Edward knew that the two valued their time together, and didn’t want to make the night awkward.

“I insist. I don’t want to think of you sitting in here alone.”

He wouldn’t really be alone for much longer, the other engines would be coming in soon, but Edward couldn’t deny that it would be nice to sit with Henry and Gordon for awhile. He shifted over to his human form and clicked off the radio in his cab, then stepped down onto the gravel floor. 

“Here, let me give you a hand.” Henry’s driver Ted suddenly appeared at Edward’s side, laying a hand gently on his shoulder. He patiently led the engine over to Henry and Gordon, then transferred him over to Henry. With a hand on Henry’s shoulder, Edward allowed himself to be led out of the shed to the place out back where they always liked to sit. 

“So how are things with James?” Henry asked, trying to make conversation as they took seats against the wall of the shed. Normally, the green engine cuddled in his partner’s lap, but this time they settled for sitting next to each other and holding hands. 

“Things are okay.” The choice of topic didn’t surprise Edward, and he felt more comfortable talking about things with the other couple of the island. “We’re still working through some stuff. James is still really nervous about things a lot of the time. I think it’s getting better, though. I just need to be patient.”

“James?” Gordon seemed surprised. “What’s he got to be nervous about?”

“James has a lot of past to work through.” Edward didn’t go into detail, it wasn’t his story to tell, but felt it was okay to make mention of it. “You two didn’t spend much time on the Mainland before coming to Sodor, so I don’t think you quite know what it was like. Some railways on the Mainland were not kind to their engines. I was lucky. James was threatened with scrapping and shunned by everyone when other engines found out he had romantic interests in another engine. It’s been a long time, but sometimes it takes a while to get over a hurt like that. Coming to Sodor didn’t help much.”

“I. never thought about what James went through before he came here.” Gordon admitted, “He never talks about it. He just seemed like a cocky young engine when I met him.”

“You know, a lot of the reason James acts the way he does is because of you, Gordon. When he first arrived, he took to copying you.” 

“Me?” Gordon sputtered. He knew he hadn’t been very nice in his younger years, but to compare himself with James. The red engine was unbearably vain, arrogant, and often rather rude. He had improved since Edward’s accident, that was true, but Gordon could still recall how James liked to tease the likes of Percy and Thomas until the two were scared out of their wits. “I was never that bad.”

“You were pretty bad.” Henry pointed out. He tried to think of a comparison he could make. “When you first came to the island you were like, well, like Spencer.”

Gordon gasped in offense, “Never! That silver piece of shit is the most hot-headed, arrogant, self-centered, rude-“

“You two are related,” Henry pointed out. “It was a long time ago, and we’ve all changed since then. Well, except Spencer, I think being a private engine has gone to his smoke box.”

Gordon still didn’t seem very happy, so Henry leaned over to give him a kiss to show that there were no hard feelings. 

“So, I guess it’s supposed to drop a few more inches of snow before the end of the week,” Edward commented, trying to change the subject. “Seems we’ll have a white Christmas again this year.”

“Lovely,” Gordon grunted. “Which means we’ll be wearing our snowploughs for the rest of winter. And listening to Thomas complain about wearing his snowplough.”

Henry chuckled. “He does seem to hate wearing it, doesn’t he? After 50 years you’d think he’d be used to it by now.”

“You’d think after getting stuck in a snow drift every winter he’d stop bitching and start wearing it.” Though, Gordon had to admit it was pretty funny seeing the little blue tank engine get his come-uppance for purposely ‘losing’ or breaking his snowplough.

“Have you ever seen a rotary snowplough before?” Edward asked suddenly, “I hear they’re used quite a lot in America, and are quite a sight to see. I’d love to watch one in operation.”

They hadn’t seen one, but had heard of them as well and agreed that it would be awesome to see one in use. Talk turned to stories of snowstorms of years past, as the three friends sat outside and enjoyed the cold night air. After a while, snowflakes began to fall, and that was their signal to go back inside and get some sleep. Come morning, they would probably need to clear the rails all over again. 

 

That same day, a small tabloid newspaper on the Mainland received an anonymous envelope in their mailbox. It contained a number of glossy photos and was accompanied by a very interesting letter. The story was rather outlandish, but it was the perfect mix of outrageous and offensive material for their paper. With the current political climate in the country right now, the story would do nicely to raise their readership and sell issues. One of the writers sat down at their typewriter and started the task of turning the information in the letter into a real shocker of a story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we finally get some conflict. Took me long enough to get around to.


	14. Chapter 14

The snow promised by the weather forecast had come with a vengeance, and in the morning all the engines endured having their snowploughs attached. Most sat through the work with silent patience, except Thomas who put up his usual complaints. As the Fat Controller arrived, he gave the blue tank engine a sharp look that shut him up rather quickly. 

“Alright, everyone. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, it is officially the Christmas season,” Sir Topham chuckled as he gestured to the foot-deep snow that covered the ground. “And that means that it’s time for the usual seasonal timetable. We’ll be switching to the new timetable tomorrow.”

Normally, in the winter passenger runs decreased and freight runs increased. Summer vacationers went back home, and things like the harvest season and fishing seasons kept their freight trucks full. The only exception was those few short weeks around Christmas, when large amounts of people were travelling to see relatives and friends for the holidays. It was a bright spot during otherwise dull winters. 

Edward’s excitement was squashed when he remembered Sir Topham’s strict orders that he was not to pull passenger trains. Someone else would have to take over his passenger runs this season. 

After giving everyone else their assignments and sending them off, Sir Topham sighed and approached Edward. The blue engine looked rather crestfallen, but there wasn’t really anything he could do. Safety took priority. “Edward, I have BoCo handling your passenger runs this winter. Instead, you will be taking his usual goods trains. Please, be safe and remember to not go past Wellsworth onto the main line without an escort. I hope I can trust you to run on your branch line unaccompanied.”

“Yes sir. Of course, sir.” Pulling goods trains along his branch line would at least be a great improvement over working in the Knapford shunting yards, even if it wasn’t pulling Christmas passengers. 

“That’s a good engine.” Sir Topham smiled kindly, though he knew Edward couldn’t see it. “One more day at the yards, then. Henry will be coming by once the sun gets up to escort you.”

Winter meant the sun wasn’t just setting earlier, it was rising later. Edward’s crew had only just arrived to start stoking up his fire, it would be another couple hours before the sun made its way above the horizon. 

If there was one advantage to this whole situation, Edward mused, he at least didn’t have to wear a snowplough like the others. The lines had all already been cleared by the time Henry arrived and led him to Knapford. The green engine gathered his goods train for the day and departed, leaving Edward to do his usual work in the yard. 

Edward was arranging an oil train when Duck rolled into the yard to pick it up. The squat green engine suddenly slowed when he saw who was working in the yards and hoped he wouldn’t be noticed, but it was already too late. He had blown his whistle when he pulled in, which was a dead giveaway to any steam engine’s identity. 

“Good morning, Duck.” Edward said cheerfully, backing away from the train, “Here’s your train.”

“Oh, um,” Duck was uncharacteristically lost for works, “Thanks, Edward.”

Edward frowned, it wasn’t like Duck to stumble over his words like that. The green pannier tank engine was usually very talkative, “Is there something wrong, Duck?”

“Ah, er,” Duck took a deep breath and pointedly looked away from Edward, “There are two ways of doing things, The Great Western Way, and the wrong way. And, it is certainly not the Great Western Way to get involved with other engines. I consider you a friend, Edward, but I cannot approve of your. . . relationship with James. Goodbye.” With that, he pulled away with his oil train. 

Edward couldn’t do anything but sit and stare down the track where Duck had gone. He hadn’t been as rude as Diesel had been the day before, but somehow it hurt more. It was almost expected from Diesel, who enjoyed making others miserable, but Duck was his friend. Had been his friend. 

Charlie also wasn’t sure what to do or say. He was equally surprised to have heard such a thing from the usually fairly friendly, if a bit uptight, green tank engine. This was one thing that he really didn’t have any experience with. The driver made a mental note to talk to Sam about it later. 

They spent the day working mostly in awkward silence, caught up in their own thoughts. Eventually, Emily came to escort Edward back to the sheds. Sidney set up the radio in his cab again, to give him something to listen to, music filling the otherwise silent shed. 

“Look, Edward.” Sidney paused in front of his engine on his way out of the shed for the night. “I know what Duck said today hurt. Please, don’t let it get to you. Remember there’s still a lot of us out here that support you, and will continue to support you.”

“Thank you, Fireman.” Edward said quietly. 

The engine still looked rather heartbroken, but Sidney didn’t know what else to say. He simply gave Edward’s buffer beam a friendly pat and left the shed. 

Now alone, the music didn’t help much as Edward was left with his thoughts. Before, he had been confident that things would turn out okay, but now he maybe wasn’t so sure. What If there were other engines who were against their relationships? Worse, what if someone went after James? He really didn’t know how the red engine would handle such a thing, given what had happened to him in his younger years. Edward continued to fret until after the sun had truly set and the other engines returned to the shed. 

“Is something wrong, Edward?” Henry seemed quite concerned as he backed into the stall to Edward’s left. The old blue engine seemed unusually contemplative. 

“It’s just something someone said to me today.” Edward almost told Henry what had happened, but was stopped by the arrival of Thomas at the sheds. This wasn’t something he wanted everyone know about. For some reason, he had the odd thought that he didn’t want to get Duck in trouble. And spreading the word around would certainly cause trouble. “It had me thinking is all.”

“Well, maybe this will cheer you up. I hear that James was released from the Steamworks today.”

That did indeed manage to bring a smile to Edward’s face. “Really? Do you think he’ll be coming back to the sheds tonight?”

“I’m pretty sure he is. In fact,” Henry looked out beyond the turntable where he could just see a red shape chuffing around the bend. “Here he is now.”

Edward followed his gaze, but of course could see nothing in the darkness. But just then, a familiar whistle echoed about the yard and Edward’s face broke into a genuine smile, “James!”

“Edward!” James was grinning from buffer to buffer as he reached the turntable and slowly started to revolve, “Wow, the sheds look great! Did they decorate them while I was gone?”

“Yeah, the workmen decorated them yesterday. Don’t they look great?” Thomas butted in excitedly, “The whole island is getting ready for Christmas.”

James ignored the small tank engine. As soon as he felt the buffers of his tender touch the buffers at the back of the stall, he jumped down from his cab and ran over to Edward. The blue engine materialized in his cab and the two shared a tight embrace. Edward gripped James and pressed his head against his partner’s chest. Suddenly, all the negative things he had heard the last two days came rushing back, and he fisted his hands in James’ shirt. Edward could not cry, his eyes were too damaged for it, and he did not breathe in this form, but James still managed to pick up on the blue engine’s distress.

“Edward, is something wrong?” James asked quietly with concern. He was used to Edward being the steady rock in their relationship; he didn’t know quite what to do. James wasn’t used to having to comfort other people. 

“Can. Can we go outside?” Though they were out of sight in Edward’s cab, he still knew that there was a good chance the other engines might overhear their conversation. 

“Sure.” Rather confused, James carefully led Edward out of the sheds and around to the back, on the opposite side from where Gordon and Henry liked to spend time. Just in case. Sitting down against the wall, James pulled Edward against him and wrapped arms securely around his partner. “Now, what’s wrong?”

“Diesel came to the yards yesterday,” Edward finally admitted, “Told me that he thought our relationship was sick and that he hoped we’d be scrapped.”

It was exactly what James had feared, that others would find out and disapprove and that they’d be punished for it. His fear, however, was overridden by anger. How dare Diesel say something like that to Edward, of all engines. Edward, who was one of the nicest, most kind engines on the entire island, maybe in the whole world. 

“That. . . that bastard!” James couldn’t come up with an expletive strong enough. “I’ll shunt him off a cliff for this! I’ll, I’ll-“

“James.” Edward shook his head, “Don’t get mad over this, please. Diesel is just a big bully, and you know that’s just what he wants. For you to get mad and do something stupid that either gets you hurt, or gives the Fat Controller a reason to separate us.”

“I. I guess you’re right,” James forced himself to calm down. “Do you think he’d actually do that? The Fat Controller, I mean. Do you think he would separate us?”

“Not just on Diesel’s word,” Edward was confident of that, at least. The black Class 08 shunter had caused a lot of trouble in his relatively short time on Sodor, and the Fat Controller knew to take anything he said with a healthy dose of skepticism. “I think it’d only happen if we did something to cause trouble, or let it interfere with our work. And even then, I don’t know.”

James frowned, resolving to work extra hard in the coming winter season. “We just have to remember to be careful.”

“I. I also saw Duck today. He told me that he didn’t think engines having relationships was ‘The Great Western Way’ and that he ‘didn’t approve’ of our relationship.” It seemed rather tame, almost funny, compared to what Diesel had said, but it still bothered Edward deeply. 

“I knew I never liked that engine.” James said vehemently, “With his ‘Great Western’ this and ‘Great Western’ that. I wish the Fat Controller would just send him back to the Great Western line so we didn’t have to deal with him.” 

“I thought he was my friend.” Edward sighed and leaned back against James, “I guess he isn’t.”

Just then, the sound of footsteps reached the couple. Edward immediately scrambled out of James’ arms, just in case it was a random human approaching them, but it was only Sam that walked around the corner. The driver didn’t seem surprised at all to see them, but looked maybe a little sad at the twin expressions of fear he had received. 

“Hey, I heard that you had a rough day, Edward. Charlie mentioned that you might want some cheering up. Would you be interested in going to the pub with me, Henry, and Gordon?”

Their last trip to the Cuff had been fun. They’d met some nice people, listened to good music. Been able to be together in public without worrying.

“Sure, it sounds better than sitting here in the dark at least.” Edward slowly got to his feet, James quickly following. As they sat, fresh snow had begun to fall from the sky again, adding to the several inches already on the ground. It would probably be a good idea to get inside. 

Inside The Cuff, the atmosphere was completely different. Christmas had hit here too, with bright strings of rainbow colors lights wrapping around the bar and along the walls, as well as brightly colored ribbon and garlands. Rather than having music playing over speakers like the last time they had been there, in the corner on the stage was a live band. The music was fairly loud out on the dance floor, so Sam led them over to one of the corner booths where it would be a little easier to talk. And sitting at the booth, almost as though she had been waiting for them, was Mama Tits. 

“Sam!” As soon as she spotted them, the drag queen stood and came over to give Sam a hug and a kiss on the cheek, “Oh, and your friends from the railway too. It’s a bit unusual to see you in here this time of the week.”

“Well, my friend Edward here had a tough day today. His, uh, co-worker thought it would be good to come here and get away from it all for a little while.”

“Oh darling,” Mama Tits looked genuinely concerned as she directed them all to sit down at the booth. “What happened? Do you want to tell Mama about it?”

Edward hesitated, unsure if he should say anything to this person he had only known for a short time. But she certainly had been kind to them, and Sam seemed to trust her. “There’s this. . bully on the railways. And, he told me that he thought my relationship with James was sick and wrong.”

Henry gasped, while Gordon looked as though he’d like to strangle something. They both had a fairly decent idea of what “bully” would say something like that. 

Mama Tits, however, just shook her head, “Don’t you listen to him one bit, darling. I’ve known many people like that in my life, and all they want is to see you unhappy. The best way to get back at him is to be happy with who you are and not pay him any mind. Trust me, nothing pisses bigots off more than when you completely ignore them.”

“Well, if he says anything like that to me, I’ll shove him off the rails,” Gordon muttered. 

“Worse, though, was today.” Edward continued, “A friend of mine, well, he told me that he ‘didn’t approve’ of my relationship and that he thought it wasn’t right.”

“It sounds like he isn’t a true friend then. Real friends will stand by you, and accept you for who you are. If they don’t, well, then you’re too good for them.” Mama Tits reached across the table and took Edward’s hand, “I know it’s hard to have someone close to you do something like that. Trust me. My own parents disowned me when I told them I was gay. But just remember that family is what you make it, and your real friends are the ones that stand with you even through the hard times.”

Though the engines didn’t have parents or family in the human sense, they could understand the sentiment. Sam grinned, “Thank you, Mama Tits. You always know what to say. You all, listen to her advice. She’s been around a lot longer than I have, and knows everything about everything.”

“I haven’t been around that much longer than you,” She gave Sam a friendly punch to the arm, “Do I really look that old?”

“What’s wrong with being old?” Edward wondered. Any human was young to an engine like him.

“See?” Sam laughed, “I’ve always been told things get better with age, anyway.”

The drag queen just rolled her eyes, knowing she’d been outmatched. “Fine, you win this time, Sam. But I’m still not telling you how old I am.”

That got everyone at the table laughing, and Sam smiled at the exchange. He was glad to see that just coming here had been able to get Edward out of his blue funk. 

Unfortunately, the conversation topics couldn’t stay light all night. A little later, Sam’s boyfriend Aaron came by after finishing his shift at the bar with a scowl on his face. 

“What’s up, babe?” Sam asked, awkwardly leaning over Mama Tits to give his boyfriend a kiss.

“Oh, just heard that someone I know got arrested. There’s been some protests over on the mainland, and the police went and arrested everybody. I’m hoping I don’t have to put up to help bail him out.” Aaron shoved into the booth and reached over to take a swig of his boyfriend’s beer. 

“Is this the same guy who got arrested last year at that Gay Liberation Front thing?” Sam frowned when his beer mug was returned empty.

“Yep.”

“What were they protesting?” Henry asked curiously. There had been a few protests on the island over the years for various causes, but they were mostly very peaceful, rather small affairs. He’d never heard of someone getting arrested for it. 

“Same thing we’ve been protesting for years, Sweetie,” Mama Tits sighed upon hearing the news, “The right to be ourselves. They may have legalized being gay a few years back, but that didn’t make all the bigotry go away. Every few months I have to see some new article in the paper about how gay people are hurting children or threatening capitalism or offending Christains. Just by existing!”

“The newspapers print things like that?” James was surprised. He didn’t realize that there was such conflict going on in the human world. 

“Well, not the big time newspapers. They can’t print anything really bad without people getting on their ass about it. But the tabloids and such can do whatever. They cater to the people who already hate us, it just adds fuel to the fire.” Mama Tits could see the worry on the engine’s faces and regretted her somewhat harsh words, “Oh, don’t you worry, dearie. Just think, a few years ago it was illegal to be gay. We’ve made so much progress in the last few years, I almost can’t believe it. We’ll persevere, just you wait and see. We’re so lucky we have a progressive government here on the Island.”

“Why don’t you guys go dance?” Sam suggested, “Have some fun. You don’t need to worry about this stuff.”

That sounded much better than sitting and discussing how terrible people could be. The engines went over to the dance floor and tried to put the conversation out of their mind. As long as they obeyed the Fat Controller and, outside of the bar, kept their relationships private and out of sight, the politics of the human world wouldn’t affect them. 

 

The engines all slept soundly that night, thoroughly tired out from having fun at the bar, and woke up to find another several inches of snow had fallen. Thick, fluffy white flakes still fell lazily from the sky, meaning all the engines had to have their snowploughes put on. It was supposed to keep snowing all day and into the next, it would be important to keep the lines clear for traffic rolling smoothly. Especially now that they were on the official Christmas timetable and that meant lots of passenger trains running. 

Even though he wouldn’t be pulling coaches, and had to wear both his snowplough and the tarp over his eye, Edward still felt a sense of excitement as he was finally able to pull out of the sheds. He was going back to his branch line, finally, after three months of being away. Little Percy escorted him as far as Wellsworth, then Edward was allowed to switch onto his branch line to continue on towards Brendam alone. It was thrilling, and maybe a little scary, to be running along the rails without an escort in front of him. Snow had already been cleared from the tracks, presumably by BoCo with the morning passenger run, but Edward still kept his speed down and tried his hardest to be aware of everything around him. 

“Morning, Edward,” Porter called with good cheer as the blue engine rolled into the docks, “I’ve got your goods train all assembled here for you.”

“Thank you, Porter,” Edward very carefully backed down on the train and heard the sound of one of the docks workers coupling him up. The man gave a hearty thumbs up, which Charlie returned before opening the throttle and pulling back out onto the branch line. 

“How do you feel, Edward?” Charlie called as he slowly worked the blue engine up to a comfortable running speed. 

“I feel great, Driver! Better than ever.” And he meant that, as he rolled along the well-travelled, familiar rails with a line of trucks rattling behind him. The scenery was just a featureless white blur to him, but that didn’t seem to matter anymore. 

Reaching Wellsworth, the trucks were dropped off in the marshalling yards there to be picked up by another engine so they could continue their journey along the main line. Another train was there waiting, containing goods headed back for the docks. Edward was just switching over to pick up the other train when he heard the blare of a diesel horn. 

“Edward, it’s good to have you back.” BoCo had just left Wellsworth station and was coming into the yards for a rest with his coaches. 

“Hello BoCo! I’m so glad to be back. Even if I’m not the one pulling coaches this year.” Edward smiled, hoping the diesel knew he had no hard feelings about being relegated strictly to goods trains for the Christmas season. 

“You might have to fight me for them next year, I kind of like this job.” BoCo laughed, but quickly grew serious and dropped his voice. “Listen, Edward. Can I talk to you about something?”

Edward was immediately put on edge. Last time someone had come to him with such a serious tone, it had been Duck imparting his judgment. “Sure, BoCo. What is it?”

“Well, there’s been some talk at the Dieselworks. And I’ve been overhearing some other engines gossiping. And, well, not all of it is very nice.” BoCo took a deep breath, “I just want to let you know that I consider you a good friend and that I will support you and James, no matter what anybody else says. As long as it makes you happy.”

Edward was struck speechless, though in a good way for once. A great rush of emotion welled up inside him, and he wished he had some way to let the green diesel know just how much the statement had meant to him. “Thank you. Thank you, BoCo. That, that means a lot to me. More than you might know.”

“Of course, Edward. I just wanted to let you know, not all us diesels are judgmental assholes. Just a few.” BoCo had tried his hardest since arriving on the island to change the negative image that other diesels, mostly Diesel himself, had created about their kind. 

“I know. It isn’t diesels that are bigots, steam engines are capable of it too. I’m glad to know that I still have such a good friend on the island.” Edward sincerely hoped that the engines on the island that he considered his friends would turn out to be more like BoCo than Duck. 

BoCo coughed, feeling a bit awkward with the direction the conversation had gone. He was used to staying in the background, only really interacting with a few others, and didn’t like being the center of attention. “Welp, I guess I should go top off my tank before I take a rest. I’ll see you later, Edward.”

“Bye, BoCo.” Edward was coupled to his trucks and began the trip back to the docks. It might have been cold and snowing outside, but Edward couldn’t help the feeling of warmth that filled him for the rest of the day.


	15. Chapter 15

As the island of Sodor prepared for the holidays, the weather seemed to be working to give everyone a white Christmas. The snow stopped for a few days but the temperature continued to drop, so when the weak winter sun made an appearance it failed to melt any of the thick snow or ice on the ground. An icebreaker had been brought in to help keep the harbor clear so shipping could continue to Brendam without interruption, keeping Edward busy with his goods trains. 

As nice as the sunshine was, Edward was actually kind of glad when the clouds made a return. The glare of sun off the bright white snow gave him a migraine if he looked at it long enough, and he had heard some murmurings from his crew about “snow blindness.” He didn’t know what snow blindness was, but it didn’t sound like something he wanted to risk. 

After several days of sunny weather, during which small armies of snowmen appeared alongside the track courtesy of the island’s children celebrating their winter break, the seasonal storms came back with a vengeance. Thick clouds were rolling in from offshore as Edward left from Wellsworth with a load of empty trucks headed for Brendam, and the wind began to pick up strength. The arrival of hail meant the return of the dreaded tarp, though it didn’t do much to protect against the impact of the little chunks of ice bouncing off his body. Heading back from the docks with his goods train, Edward found himself struggling against a powerful crosswind. 

“I think the weather’s getting worse,” Sidney nearly dropped the coal in his shovel when Edward’s body shuddered in an especially strong gust of wind. “God, a few more like that and we’ll get blown clean off the track.”

“We have to get to Wellsworth, there’s a shed there we can stay in until this blows over.” Charlie spurred Edward on a little faster. “Are you doing alright, Edward?”

“I think I’ll be able to make it to Wellsworth.” Edward wasn’t quite sure where he was on his branch line, but was determined to get in out of the sudden storm. Hopefully, the other engines on the island had been able to find shelter. 

Unfortunately, the tape holding down the tarp on his face wasn’t strong enough to stand against a windstorm. Edward felt one of the bottom corners come loose and begin to flap, the metal grommet thumping painfully against his face for a few moments before the entire thing was ripped loose and flew off down the tracks. 

“What was that?” Charlie poked his head out of the cab when he saw something blue whip past them, but had to pull it back in almost immediately from the hail. “Edward?”

“I’m fine!” Edward insisted, though he really wasn’t. Now exposed, his bandages quickly became sodden due to the hail melting off his warm boiler. The tape loosened, and it didn’t take long for the white gauze to go the same way the tarp had. 

Suddenly, the damaged side of his face was exposed to the stinging cold and pounding hail. Edward instinctively attempted to open his now uncovered eye, only to cry out when the action caused a stabbing pain that felt like it reached all the way to the back of his smokebox. Though it was dark and stormy, there was still too much ambient light for his injured eye to handle. Hail pinged off his burns, only adding to the agony. 

Charlie felt more than heard the cry of pain that reverberated through Edward’s frame, “Edward? What happened?”

“My bandages. .. ripped loose,” Edward gasped. He could barely think straight, much less see the track and watch where he was going. He only hoped that his driver could see through the driving hail. 

“What?” Charlie felt a pang of terror. Edward was clearly in terrible pain, but they had already passed Suddery and there was nothing to take shelter in between there and Wellsworth. Their only choice was to soldier on and try and make it to town. Feeling Edward beginning to slow down, Charlie flipped the lockout switch, which gave him complete control over the blue engine. He didn’t often use it, feeling it was a bit cruel to take away an engine’s free will like this, but it was clear that Edward wasn’t going to be able to keep moving on his own. 

Edward’s breath came in short pants as he struggled on. When he felt his driver take control, he finally succumbed to the pain and slipped into oblivion. 

 

 

When Edward awoke, it was clear some time has passed. He no longer felt the buffeting wind or driving hail against his body, but could hear it pounding against a roof above him. Clearly, they had reached shelter. Edward tried to open his eyes, only to squeeze them shut again at the sudden, stabbing pain that resulted. 

“Don’t open your eyes,” That was the voice of his driver, and Edward felt a comforting hand against his buffer, “Your bandages blew off, remember? There isn’t anything there to block the light.”

Very carefully, Edward squeezed his right eye tightly shut and opened his left one. He could just make out the inside of the shed they were in, and the blurry shape of his driver in front of him. “Where are we? What happened?”

“You passed out. Sid and I got you to Wellsworth, and now you’re in the shed behind the station.” Charlie looked up at Edward’s face and couldn’t help but wince. Though his injuries had healed in the last several months, there was still an impressive amount of burned, black metal around his eye. “I called the Steamworks, but they can’t send out anyone to put on a new bandage until tomorrow. You’ll just have to deal for the night. I’m sorry.”

Spend the whole night with his injuries exposed to the air like this? Unable to open his eyes? The cold air stung terribly, a low throb that pounded across his face at steady intervals, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He would, as his driver had said, ‘simply have to deal.’ “I guess I don’t have any choice, then. Will you and Fireman be able to get home?”

It was just like Edward to worry about them, “Me and Sid will be fine. The weather might be bad, but there’s still a few locals running pulled by the bigger engines. We’ll be able to get back to Tidmouth.”

“I got your radio,” That was Sidney, emerging from where he had been in the cab doing some cleaning up. “I mean, if you want to listen to it.”

“Some music would be nice. Thank you, Fireman,” Edward had come to appreciate the sound of something to fill the silence when he was left in the shed alone. 

The radio was set up in his cab and tuned to his usual station, then both humans left and Edward was alone. The ache in his face told him he probably wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night, and he found himself wishing James was there. He was completely in the dark now, finding it too awkward to keep one eye open and one shut, and tried to concentrate on the sound of the radio to distract himself from the pain and the pounding of the storm outside. 

About an hour passed, according to the lady announcer on the radio, when Edward heard the shed door open and a gust of terribly cold wind blew in. Edward risked opening one eye to see who it was, a ridiculous sort of hope in his mind that maybe it was James, only to find a green diesel backing into the stall next to him. Of course, this was the shed BoCo normally stayed in. 

“Oh, Edward. Hello,” BoCo wasn’t too surprised to see the blue engine, he sometimes did stay at Wellsworth when the weather was poor or a job ran late. But then the green diesel caught sight of his face and gasped, “Oh my goodness. Edward, what happened? Are you okay?”

“The wind blew my bandages off my face, I have to wait until tomorrow to get new ones put on,” Edward didn’t blame the other engine for his shock; he could only imagine what his face looked like right now. 

“That sounds terrible. Does it hurt much?” BoCo regretted the question almost as soon as he had asked it, but couldn’t help but be concerned for his older friend. 

“Only a little,” Edward lied, not wanting his friend to worry too much about him. “I’ll be okay. I’m sure I must be a real sight to look at, though.”

“Well, you won’t be winning any beauty contests tonight,” BoCo joked. It drew a smile from Edward, and a disapproving shake of the head from his driver. The diesel suddenly frowned, having just noticed an odd noise in the shed, “Um, Edward. Do you hear something? Like music?”

“Fireman left me with a radio to listen to. I can turn it off if you want.” 

“No, no. That’s alright, I like music. Better than listening to the hail against the roof. It’s awful out there. The Fat Controller actually had to cancel a bunch of trains.” An especially strong gust rattled the shed doors. 

“And now I get to drive home in it,” BoCo’s driver climbed down from his cab and gave the engine’s side a friendly pat, “I’ll see you tomorrow, BoCo. And good to see you again, Edward. Hope you feel better soon.”

“Goodbye, Driver.”

And with that, the two engines were left alone in the shed. Music filled the silence for them, and the heat from Edward’s boiler kept the shed pleasantly warm. Edward almost laughed in surprise when he heard BoCo humming along with one of the songs, “Heard this one before, have you?”

“Driver likes it,” BoCo sounded maybe a bit embarrassed, “I mean, it is a good song.”

Edward listened closer for a moment, feeling himself humming a few notes as well. He had heard this one before over the radio, once or twice. “Yes, it is. I’ve heard it a few times on this station.”

Now that he had Edward’s approval, BoCo felt brave enough to sing along. Quietly, at least. “We’ve got a thing, that’s called Radar Love. We’ve got a line in the sky-ayay.” He didn’t know anything outside of the chorus, and went back to humming. 

This time, Edward did laugh. “I guess your driver isn’t the only one that listens to this song.”

“Well, okay. Maybe it’s me that likes it and not my driver,” BoCo admitted. “Driver sometimes brings along a radio to play in my cab, and I like to listen to it.” He indulged himself and sang along with the final reprise of the chorus as the song ended. “Okay, I’m done. You won’t have to listen to my singing voice anymore.”

“It isn’t that bad,” Edward reassured, “You should hear my fireman try to sing, made me wish I had ears so I could plug them.”

BoCo snorted. He had missed this, spending nights in the shed with Edward. He knew most other engines considered the blue engine to be nothing but an old bore, but he actually had a surprising sense of humor. It had gotten lonely when Edward had gone back to sleeping most evenings at Tidmouth sheds. 

With the song done, a young women’s voice sounded from the radio to give the weather report. Both engines went quiet to hear what the weather would be like the next day. 

‘That was ‘Radar Love’ by Golden Earring. And now the forecast; winds should start to let up by midnight with the hail turning to snow. It isn’t expected to rise above freezing tomorrow, and we’ll have a light snow through the day. That snow will taper off by sundown, with clear, cold weather expected through the end of the week.’

“Well at least we won’t have to listen to hail all night,” BoCo muttered, going quiet again when the announcer continued with the local news. 

‘Now to national news. Alright Kelly, this is gonna be a weird one.’ That was Kenneth, the male co-host of the evening show. ‘Our own little Island of Sodor has been making some interesting headlines over on the mainland lately. The tabloid paper Inquisitor, yes, the same one that brought us the story last month about how aliens are secretly running the British Parliament, has just put out a new front page story about how the trains of Sodor are gay. That’s right, according to the Inquisitor, not only do the trains have the ability to somehow turn into humans, but they’re using the ability to have homosexual relations.’

Laughter from Kelly, the female co-host. ‘People can’t be taking this seriously, Ken. Gay trains? What will they come up with next?’

‘That’s the thing, some people are taking this very seriously. You know, gay rights have been front page news for the last few years now, with all the protests and legislation going on. Half the country seems to be in support of passing laws to protect homosexuals, the other half seems to want to bring back the death penalty for them. This story is perfectly timed to really stir up the pot. There’s also a number of photographs in the article that appear fairly convincing.’

‘Well, it will certainly be interesting to hear what the owner of the railway has to say on this subject. Listeners, if you have anything to add to this story, feel free to give us a call at the station,’ Kelly rattled off the station phone number and call sign, then the music started up once more.

BoCo looked over at Edward hesitantly. The blue engine’s mouth had fallen open in shock, and he seemed to be frozen in some kind of horror. “Edward, are you okay? Did, did they really just say what I think they said?”

“T-they know,” Edward said softly, “Oh god. What are we going to do? People know, BoCo! About me and James, about Henry and Gordon. Everyone knows!”

“It’s gonna be alright,” BoCo said awkwardly, not really sure what to do in such a situation. “I mean, the Fat Controller wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you guys. He already knows that you’re in a relationship, right?”

“Yes, but we were supposed to keep it private and not let anyone outside the railway know. And now everyone does,” Though Edward didn’t –really- think he would be scrapped over this, there was the possibility that he and James would be separated. Sent to work on separate branch lines, or worse, separate railways. 

BoCo honestly didn’t know how to help. All he could do was sit and try to offer reassurance to his friend. But between the raw pain of his damaged face and the emotional stress, Edward didn’t sleep at all that night. 

 

In the morning, both engines in the shed were roused before the sunrise by the arrival of the fitters to re-bandage Edward’s face. They had been brought by James, who had heard that Edward had been injured somehow in the storm and was rather anxious to make sure his partner was alright. 

When James blew his whistle outside the shed, Edward’s eyes immediately shot open. He then gave a cry of pain as he remembered why he wasn’t supposed to do that and squeezed them shut again. He had been in a kind of light doze, having finally gotten some semblance of sleep after many hours of fretting, but the pain in his right eye was enough to bring him instantly to full awareness. 

“James?” He heard the sound of someone pulling open the shed doors, and that lovely whistle blew again.

“Edward!” James cried happily. He moved forward on his track, only to stop short at the sight of Edward’s face. He hadn’t seen the damage caused there before, having only seen the blue engine from behind when he had assisted with the cleanup after the crash. Seeing all the blackened metal around his eye, where he had been badly burned by the explosion, forced James to avert his eyes. He simply couldn’t look at the damage that, in his mind, he had caused. “Oh my- Are. Are you okay?” James felt his boiler roil unpleasantly just thinking about how much the injuries must hurt. He was no stranger to minor breakdowns and crashes, but had never suffered such severe damage to his face. 

Though Edward couldn’t see his partner, he could tell that his appearance bothered James just from his voice. “I’m fine, James. I know it looks bad, and I’m not a very pretty sight right now, but I’m going to be okay.”

The fitters came up with fresh gauze and medical tape, starting the careful process of covering up his burns without causing unnecessary pain. Edward, conscious of James right there in front of him, did his best to keep silent. 

As the fitters worked, Hank the foreman looked over Edward with satisfaction, “Your injuries are healing well, Edward. Very good, you’re right on track to have those bandages off in another three weeks or so.”

“I can’t wait,” He would finally, if it went well, be able to get back to his normal life. With the bad eye covered up, Edward could again open his left eye and look around. Not that he could see much in the dark pre-dawn light, but he could make out the large red shape of James sitting just outside the door. “It’s alright, James. My bandages are back on.”

James looked back over at his partner, feeling a sense of relief to see the burns covered up once more. But he wouldn’t forget what was under them, and the pain that Edward had gone through and was still going through. “Does, does it hurt much?”

“I’m used to it,” Edward didn’t want to lie to James, “It was pretty bad last night in that storm, but I’m fine now. Really.” His face was still sore from being exposed to the open air for so long, but it was only a slight ache compared to what he had suffered the night before. Soon, he knew it would fade to nothing. 

This didn’t seem to reassure James much, but he didn’t want to press the point. Though the fitters had finished their work, James didn’t want to leave Edward quite yet. “Driver, may I stay here? Just for a little while?”

Rick leaned out the cab window, a frown on his face, “The fitters need to get back to the Steamworks, James. We can’t stay.”

“I could take them,” BoCo suddenly spoke up from his stall. He had been sitting silently, not wanting to interrupt the couple, but felt that he could at least give them a bit more time together, “It’s a Saturday, my first train isn’t for another hour and a half. Driver will be here in a few minutes to oil me and start me up for the day.”

It didn’t particularly matter to the fitters who took them back. Hank, the foreman, shrugged, “That’s fine, long as somebody gets us back to the Steamworks.”

As BoCo had predicted, his driver arrived shortly thereafter and didn’t seem surprised at all to find that his engine had offered to do another engine’s work. He just rolled his eyes good-naturedly and helped transfer over the small coach that James had been pulling to take the fitters back to Croven’s Gate. Soon, it was just James and Edward left at the shed. 

“I was worried about you,” James offered as he moved forward on his track until his buffers were pressed against his partners. “All the Fat Controller told me was that you had been injured in the storm. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“It wasn’t that bad, I swear.” Edward reassured him, not mentioning how he had passed out due to the pain. James didn’t need to know that part. “How did everyone else fare? Did the storm do any damage?”

“There are some trees across the tracks in places, but most have been cleared.” James had actually been delayed by an enormous tree across the mainline that took crews a little while to cut up. Percy hadn’t been able to take the mail at all in the early morning; the run had to be rescheduled for the afternoon. “The storm wasn’t as bad inland.”

“That’s good.” Edward frowned, the news report he had heard the night before was nagging at him. James deserved to know, this affected him as well. He just hoped that the red engine wouldn’t take it too badly. “James, there’s. .. there’s something I need to tell you. I was listening to the radio last night, and there was a news report. It was about us. I- I don’t know how. But the humans found out.”

“Found out?” James seemed puzzled for a moment, before his eyes widened in realization, “You mean. About us? How?”

“I don’t know. But apparently they have photos of us.”

“What about Henry and Gordon?” James seemed to be working himself up into a panic, “People can’t know, the Fat Controller forbid it. What’s he going to do to us?”

“I don’t know,” Edward admitted. He wished he had steam up so that he could move, but his crew wouldn’t be there for a while yet. “It’s going to be okay, James, don’t worry.”

 

At Tidmouth station, Sir Topham Hatt arrived in his office after assigning the engines their tasks for the day. He hadn’t had a chance to so much as sit down since the day before, what with the storm and subsequent clean-up efforts. His secretary was there waiting, with the messages that he had missed while he was out. 

“Alright, Laura. What do I have waiting for me?” He sat down with a sigh and set his hat on the table in front of him. Hopefully, nothing too urgent. 

“Um, Sir? You may want to take a look at these yourself?” Laura set down a small stack of call records on the desk, “I’ve received numerous calls from news agencies around the mainland asking for your opinion on some tabloid article that came out a few days ago. Something about homosexual trains?”

“What?!” Sir Topham leafed through the call records, taking note of the names of some of the news agencies that had called recently. Some he hadn’t heard of, but others were very big mainland newspapers and radio stations indeed. “What tabloid article?”

“Something about the Inquisitor? I’m really not sure, Sir.” Laura was used to fielding calls about train schedules and deliveries, not a sudden influx of curious press. 

They were saved from further wondering when the door to the office flew open and Sam stomped in, looking absolutely livid. “Look at this!” The engine driver tossed a tabloid newspaper onto the desk. The name “Inquisitor” featured across the top in big red letters, with the headline “HOMOSEXUAL TRAINS?!!!” and a color photograph of Henry and Gordon. They were sitting facing each other in what appeared to be the forest, as close to touching as they could get in engine form. 

In stunned disbelief, Sir Topham paged through the paper. There were more photos, of Henry and Gordon as well as Edward and James. Both as engines and of their human forms. Oddly, the photos of their human shapes all had a strange fuzziness to them, enough to prevent the casual reader from recognizing their faces, but the fact that they were embracing or kissing in all the pictures was clear as day. “Shocking” captions accompanied in bright red ink, but Sir Topham was too angry to read them. 

“How did this happen?!” He exclaimed, throwing the paper back down on the desk. “What kind of red top rag would print this? And who sent them the story in the first place?”

“This is the Inquisitor,” Sam said drily. He had encountered the paper before, mostly because his boyfriend Aaron thought it was hilarious and often brought it home for a laugh. “They’re strongly conservative, hate gay people, and will print anything they think will sell papers. But as for who sent in the photos, I don’t know.” Sam hesitated, “Sir. You aren’t going to punish the engines for this, are you?”

“No, of course not,” Though he had given strict orders for the engines to keep their relationships private, Sir Topham knew that they were not at fault for this particular disaster, “These are obviously candid photographs. Someone has been following you around taking pictures, probably specifically for this reason.”

“Everybody is talking about this article. The Inquisitor really managed to kick over an ant hill with this one,” Sam looked to the Fat Controller with worried eyes, “Sir, what are we going to do?”

“I don’t know.” He admitted, “I don’t know.”


	16. Chapter 16

There was a palpable tension in the air on the island that day as the engines set to work. As Gordon sat at the station with the express, waiting for passengers to load and unload, he found himself watching the people on the station platform. Many were looking at him strangely, not in admiration like they should but with apprehension and suspicion. A small child toddled towards him, obviously attracted to his shining blue paint and polished side rods, only to have the mother hurriedly pull her child back with a dark scowl directed towards Gordon. The big engine let off steam in irritation and chuffed out of the station. 

James also noticed the odd treatment he was getting from humans at the stations. Already nervous, this only added to the mess of anxiety in his mind. Being so distracted only caused James to make mistakes, which of course made him even more anxious. 

Rolling along with a pair of coaches behind him, James was so busy fretting that he chuffed right past a red signal without seeing it. The points were against him and with an unpleasant screech he derailed and ground to a halt. 

Fortunately, James had been going slowly and no damage was done. Only his pony truck and driving wheels came off the track, so his coaches were fine but he himself was left helpless. As Emily came to take his coaches, James could do nothing but sit and fume. 

“Are you alright, James?” His driver Rick looked up at him with concern. There was an expression on the engine’s face the man had never seen before, one of fear. “This isn’t like you.”

“Am I going to be scrapped?” James asked in a small voice. It was all he could think about all day. At first, he had just been worried about being sold off to another railway, but then he had remembered that they didn’t use steam on the mainland anymore and his fears had spiraled out of control. 

“For derailing? James, everyone derails sometimes. Hell, you’ve had worse than this before.” Rick had a sudden flash of understanding, “Oh, James, is this about the radio broadcast Edward told you about? You have to know me and the other drivers would never let anything bad happen to you. I-I’ll buy you myself if I have to!”

Though it was a nice sentiment, James knew that in the end Sir Topham made all the decisions and there was nothing that he or his driver could do about it. 

That evening at the sheds, there was no happy chatter or even teasing James about his accident. When Sir Topham’s car rolled up, everyone grew silent and waited. The Fat Controller had a serious and solemn expression on his face as he walked up to the shed. 

“I’m sure you all have heard about the news article that came out about our railway.” Sir Topham boomed from atop the crate he always used to address the engines. “I will not be punishing any of you for this; none of this was your fault. Someone took photographs of you all without your consent. Please, go about your business as usual while myself and the drivers take care of this.”

 

Later, James and Edward sat outside and looked up at the cold clear skies. Though they did not mind the cold, they still huddled together for company. Edward was concerned for his partner, who had been acting incredibly distracted and panicked.

“There’s nothing to worry about anymore.” Edward reassured, arms wrapped securely around the red engine. “The Fat Controller said that he isn’t going to do anything to punish us. We’ll get to stay together.”

“All my life, I’ve been told that how I felt was wrong.” James murmured softly. “I thought, maybe I really had been damaged during my rebuild. That’s why I was sold to the Northwestern, because my builder knew I was broken and didn’t want me on his railway. Whenever I caught myself thinking, you know, a-about you, I would tell myself that no one could ever find out.”

“And now they have, and you’re scared.” Edward finished for him. He tightened his grip on the red engine. “James, you are not broken, or damaged. You are also not alone. I will always be here for you, no matter what happens. The Fat Controller said we get to stay together, and there is no reason not to believe him.”

“I know. I know.” James tried to relax into his partner’s arms. Still, the worries plagued him. 

 

On the other side of the island, things were equally restless at the Vicarstown Dieselworks sheds. Diesel had arrived with a grin on his face chuckling quietly at some kind of inside joke, which immediately put the other diesels on edge. Generally, nothing good happened when Diesel was that happy. 

“What has you so cheerful?” Mavis asked curiously as she backed into one of the stalls at the Dieselworks. She didn’t often overnight at Vicarstown, usually staying in a shed at the quarry, but had some routine maintenance scheduled for the next day. 

Diesel desperately wanted to tell all about his devious plan, but had at least enough sense of self-preservation to not come right out and admit to it. “Well, it seems that someone found out about the, ahem, illicit relationships of the steamies and published a news article about it. Now the Fat Controller will have to do something about it, instead of just ignoring their sick trysts.”

“What?!” Mavis wasn’t fooled at all by Diesel attempting to act innocent, it sounded like just the sort of thing he’d do. “Diesel, how could you? Did you forget that Salty and I are in a relationship as well?”

That took some of the wind out of Diesel’s sails. He had honestly forgotten that the two were together, mostly because they were both diesels are therefor could do no wrong in his eyes. “Well, I never said it was me-“

“Don’t play innocent.” Mavis cut him off sharply, “This is just the kind of thing you’d do. James and Edward must be absolutely heartbroken, and they’re so sweet together. Gordon and Henry too. The Fat Controller will hear about this, you can be sure!”

“What?” Diesel looked around the shed for support, but found none. His usual allies, ‘Arry and Bert, were working at the smelters through the evening and were not in the shed, leaving only the steamie-sympathizers. Even Paxton was managing to look fairly angry at him. “I have done nothing wrong. You all know that relationships aren’t allowed. Engines don’t feel love, the only ones that think they do must be damaged in some way. No offense, Mavis.”

Her displeased frown meant that she was quite offended indeed, but there was no reasoning with Diesel when he was like this. He would cling to his ideals like a starved dog, and no amount of arguing would sway him. Mavis just wished that her driver hadn’t already left for the evening so she could move to a different shed. She could at least make sure Diesel met consequences for what he did, and that was the thought that she clung to as she drifted off to sleep. 

 

The next day, Sir Topham called together several of the drivers for a meeting to figure out just what they were going to do. This was a press nightmare of the sort that they had never faced before, and the railway owner hoped that perhaps the drivers would have some suggestions.

“What are the chances this will blow over?” Charlie wondered, “I mean, the tabloid papers put out sensational stories all the time, next week they’ll probably say something about how the queen is an alien or something and everyone will forget about this.”

“Maybe the mainland will forget, but what about here on Sodor?” Sam shook his head, “I saw how people were watching us today. There are people who don’t trust the engines anymore, they’re wary and suspicious. It’s the same way people look at me and my boyfriend when we walk in the streets together.”

“I’ve also heard some concerns from mainland railways. They don’t appreciate this kind of story getting out either.” Sir Topham sighed. If he ever found out who had let this story out, they would never work on the island again. 

“I wish people could know the engines how we do.” Rick was deeply worried about how recent events had been affecting James. “If people could just see how happy they were together, I don’t know how anyone could object.”

“So why don’t we do that? Let people get to know the engines more.” Ted shrugged when everyone looked at him in surprise. “What? We can’t just ignore this and hope it goes away. I’ve read the stories in the papers, some of the really conservative loony ones are even calling for scrapping. Maybe if people can get to know the engines like we do, they’ll start to understand.”

The idea did have some merit. “I have had a number of news outlets requesting interviews and statements. I think having a press conference would be a bit overwhelming for the engines, but maybe one or two reporters doing a private interview.” Sir Topham was already putting together plans. He would need to look over the list of newspapers that had contacted him and make a decision. Tabloids would be right out, of course, and it couldn’t be one of the local papers because they didn’t get distributed beyond the island. “Thank you for your suggestions, gentleman. You may go back to your duties now.”

As the engine drivers trickled out, Sam stuck around behind. “Sir? May I make a suggestion?”

“What is it, Sam?” Sir Topham knew that the engine driver probably had more experience with this sort of media frenzy than most, and was willing to listen to ideas. 

“Have you had the Gay News contact you? Because I think it might be a good idea to allow them to talk to the engines.” Sam could see that the railway owner was skeptical to the idea and hastened to elaborate, “News media can completely turn around an interview until it seems like you’ve said something that you’ve never said. I’ve seen it happen, and I’m concerned. Not all the big name papers have a great track record reporting about gay people, and I’m worried that this may be the same case. If you would just consider it.”

“I will think about it.”

Sam nodded and slipped out to return to his engine. 

 

In his office, Sir Topham spent his day fielding phone calls of all kinds. Taking Sam’s advice, he had contacted the Gay News and offered them an interview, and has also requested that they pick a reporter from a large paper of their choosing to bring along with. He wanted to make sure that the story got a wide distribution, after all, but didn’t want to bring in anyone who might distort the story or harass the engines unnecessarily. Hopefully, someone from the gay newspaper would have a better idea than he did. 

Calls from other news agencies were mostly ignored, as were the occasional conservative nuts. More pressing were calls from companies around Sodor about their contracts. No one was cancelling them. . yet, but everyone wanted to hear from the railway owner in his own words just what all this tabloid business was about. He didn’t doubt, though, that there would be cancelled contracts and backlash against the railway if this media nightmare didn’t get handled soon. 

On top of all that, it was a week and a half until Christmas. There were passenger trains to organize, and the cold weather meant more coal runs to keep the stations heated. Not having Edward available for passengers runs or anything after dark was requiring a lot of schedule re-arranging. Normally, the blue engine was one of the most dependable through the winter season. 

Then, of course, he had to set aside time for the engines to be interviewed. Preferably, the interviews would be done at a time when there was no one else at Tidmouth to interrupt. He also wanted to make sure that the couples would be together for it, hopefully that would make the process easier. 

With schedules and interviews arranged, Sir Topham finally was able to get some rest. 

 

It didn’t take long for the reporters to get to the island. They arrived the next morning on the Express, coming into Tidmouth station exactly on time. Say what you will about Gordon’s attitude, but the engine was always extremely punctual with his duties. 

Sir Topham stood as his secretary opened the door for his guests, settling his hat on his head. He wanted to make a good impression, after all. “Hello, you must be the reporters. I am Sir Topham Hatt, welcome to Sodor.”

“Hello, my name is Wes, I’m from the Gay News.” The taller man shook his hand with a smile. “I brought with me Dana, she’s from the Post Intelligencer. There’s no mainstream paper I trust to handle this better.”

Dana, a tall redhead with notebook and pencil tucked under one arm, shook his hand as well. “Thank you for inviting us, Sir Topham. Our paper is very grateful to be getting an exclusive like this.”

“I wanted to make sure that this story gets out, but at the same time the engines are not used to talking about things like this with strangers. In fact, they interact with humans quite rarely outside of their crews and employees of the railway.” Sir Topham gathered a few things and led them out of his office onto the platform of Tidmouth station. “I hope you don’t mind getting started right away? I can’t let the interviews interfere with their work schedules, but I did set away about an hour for you to speak with several of the engines. With their crews and myself present, of course. I have a pair of engines free right now to speak with you.”

Wes and Dana glanced at each other, a bit surprised to find that apparently everything had been neatly scheduled in advance. It did make sense, if one thought about it, considering that this was a railway that depending heavily on exact time tables. 

“No, we don’t mind at all.” Wes shifted his shoulder-bag, which contained all his equipment. “Where shall we be doing the interviews? Here at the station?”

“I thought one of the roundhouses would be best. It will be quieter there, and there shouldn’t be any interruptions.” They just had to get to the sheds. Sir Topham glanced around the station, taking note of who was there and where they were headed. The nice thing about being the owner of the railway, he never wanted for transportation. “Ah, right this way. Thomas, have you finished your run for the morning?”

The little blue tank engine looked over at his owner with surprise. Thomas was sitting at one of the platforms with Annie and Clarabel, having just finished offloading his passengers, and was preparing to go to a water tower to top off and rest. “Yes sir, I don’t have another passenger run for several hours.”

“Would you please take us to Tidmouth Sheds? These are the reporters who are here to interview everyone for the news article.” Sir Topham gestured to the two people standing next to him. Wes and Dana waved awkwardly at the engine. 

“Of course, sir.” Thomas smiled proudly as the three humans climbed aboard Annie and he started making his way to the nearby Tidmouth sheds. The blue tank engine hadn’t quite grasped the seriousness of the situation, though he had seen how it had affected his friends, and was dreadfully excited to be interviewed later that day. Carrying the reporters to the shed was being very useful indeed. 

At Tidmouth sheds, Gordon and Henry were already waiting for the reporters. Sam and Ted sat in folding chairs off to one side, while the firemen remained in the engine’s cabs to keep a watchful eye on the fires and pressure gauges. The engines themselves were in their human forms, seated awkwardly in chairs set in front of their real bodies. They figured that this would be more comfortable for the reporters, who probably weren’t used to speaking with looming, multi-ton steam engines. 

Wes and Dana quickly slipped into reporting mode and got their equipment out quickly and efficiently. A notepad was standard, of course, along with a tape recorder and a camera to take photographs of everyone for the article. The echoing space of the roundhouse wasn’t exactly their typical interview environment, but they would simply have to make do. They weren’t interviewing your average people, after all. 

“Alright,” Wes put on his best ‘dealing with skittish people’ smile and picked up his notepad. “My name is Wes, I’m from the Gay News.”

“And I’m Dana, from the Post Intelligencer,” Part of the deal made for her attending was that she would let Wes do most of the talking, but Dana still intended to get in a few questions of her own. 

“Now, if everyone could state their name for the recording,” Wes reached over and clicked on the tape recorder, making sure the mic was pointed to pick up the others in the shed. 

“I am Sir Topham Hatt, owner of the Northwestern Railway.” Sir Topham started off.

“My name is Sam, I’m Gordon’s driver.”

“And I’m Ted, Henry’s driver.”

The two engines looked decided less comfortable about speaking into some little device. Gordon shifted awkwardly in the plastic chair, “Um, my name is Gordon. I am an express passenger engine.”

“And I’m Henry, a mixed traffic engine.” The green engine leaned closer to his partner until their shoulders touched, drawing some strength from his partner. 

“Alright, that’s good. Very good.” Wes made a few adjustments to the recorder, while Dana scribbled notes on her notepad. “Now, I’d like you to tell me a bit about yourselves.”

“Ourselves?” Gordon frowned, considering what to say. He did like to talk about himself. “I was built in 1920 by Sir Nigel Gresley as a prototype for his A1 passenger engine class. I pull the Express, the ‘Wild Nor’wester’ every day across the island. I am also the fastest engine on the island.”

Henry grinned as he heard the big blue engine go into boasting mode. If he didn’t cut Gordon off now, he could likely go for hours. “I was built in 1919, from a set of plans stolen from Sir Nigel Gresley.” Gordon looked unhappy to be interrupted, but accepted the transgression with no more than a frown. No one but Henry would be able to get away with such rudeness, “The people who built me didn’t really know what they were doing, so I was sick most of the time due to poor build quality. About ten years after I came to Sodor, I was involved in a serious accident that resulted in a full rebuild. That solved the worst of my sickness, and made me resemble a Stanier Black Five. I usually pull goods trains, but also pull passengers during the busy seasons.”

Wes waited a moment for them to continue, but the engines seemed to be done talking and just looked back at him impassively. That wasn’t quite what he had been looking for. “Okay, good. I also want to know about how you feel. Your likes, dislikes, things that make you happy. Stuff like that. We want people to get to know you, like your friends do.”

“Well, I like trees,” Henry ventured. “One of my favorite things to do is to sit in the forest and watch the animals and the birds. It’s very peaceful. Um, as for things I don’t like. Well, I don’t like rain very much?”

Gordon snorted at that, a grin stretching across his face, “Henry once hid in a tunnel due to the rain.” He explained to the reporters, “Refused to come out for anything, so the Fa- uh, Sir Topham Hatt bricked him in and left him there for a few weeks.”

Both Reporters looked over to Sir Topham, shock plain on their features. 

“Bricked into a tunnel?” Dana repeated incredulously. Obviously, Henry had survived the incident because he was sitting right in front of them, but still. Who bricks someone into a tunnel? And for weeks at that?

“My father, who created the Northwestern Railway,” Sir Topham explained, “This happened about forty years ago. He was a little more strict with the engines in those days.”

“I’m alright, really.” Henry insisted, giving Gordon a short glare. The last thing he wanted was for the reporters to get a bad impression of their owner. 

“Anyway,” Wes shook himself a bit and settled back into his comfortable, hopefully reassuring “interview” smile. “What about you, Gordon?”

“I like pulling the express,” Gordon was an engine who enjoyed the simple things in life. Pulling coaches along the track with all signals green, sleeping in the yards in the sun, few things made him happier. “And what I don’t like trucks. I hate pulling trucks. I am far too important an engine to pull such dirty things.”

Henry rolled his eyes. “Trucks aren’t that bad, Gordon. Honestly. And I know you like more things than that. You like spending time in the forest too.”

Gordon snorted, but his face melted into a gentle smile. “It isn’t the forest. I like spending time with you.”

Henry flushed bright red and reached over to squeeze his partner’s hand. “Good, because I like spending time with you too.”

Wes coughed politely; cute as the exchange was they had a limited amount of time and needed to stay on topic. “Now, I’ve heard that relationships amongst engines is strongly discouraged. Have you encountered any of this prejudice, and what can you say about it?”

“We. Didn’t spend much time on the mainland before coming to Sodor.” Henry tried to figure out the best way to phrase what he wanted to say. “Things on Sodor are a little different. No one ever really said anything about it, we just kind of knew that engines weren’t supposed to fall in love and that it was only a thing for people.”

“In the past, we were also not allowed so much freedom.” Gordon added, “For the most part, we were controlled by our drivers and didn’t have the opportunity to get close. I. Always knew that I preferred Henry over the other engines, but never did anything about it until recently.”

“I see,” Wes made a few notes on his pad, he would need to find some engines with more mainland experience it seemed. “When you got together, did you worry that people would object? Was there any trouble?”

“I, was worried briefly.” Gordon crossed his impressive arms and leaned back in his seat. There was a general sort of fear amoung the engines when it came to involving humans in their affairs, knowing that if their crews objected they had all the power. “When driver guessed what was going on, I knew with one word he could end it. Make sure I never saw Henry again. But, he didn’t.” 

Everyone turned to look at Sam, who merely shrugged and gave a sheepish grin. “Well, when I heard poor Gordon here was suffering from an unrequited love, I couldn’t just sit and do nothing. I had to hook him up, that’s what friends do.”

Ted had to stifle his laughter at that, remembering well the trouble he and Sam had gone through to try and get their two engines together. The thought that the two should be separated to curb their feelings had never occurred to either man. 

“I wasn’t too worried, I know Sir Topham is a fair man.” Henry shrugged. “I wasn’t scrapped even when I was such a poor steamer I spent more time in the shed than out on the rails. And then, when I crashed and badly wrecked, I was repaired. I just didn’t act on my feelings because, well, I didn’t think Gordon felt the same way.”

Wes nodded in understanding. Misunderstandings: the great killer of relationships. He continued asking questions along the same vein for the rest of the time slot, mostly directed at the engines and their crews, until the drivers stood and went back to their engines for the evening runs.


	17. Chapter 17

James picked at his nails nervously as he sat on the hard plastic folding chair set in front of his body on the gravel ballast of the sheds. It was his and Edward’s turn to be interviewed, but at this point James wasn’t sure he’d be able to get one word out. Fortunately for him, Edward was a calm, steady presence there at his side. 

“Hello, my name is Wes, and this is Dana.” This was their sixth and last interview of the day, and by this time the two reporters had gotten the hang of talking to the engines. “Now, we have a recorder here to record the interview. If each of you could just say your name so we know who each of you are.”

“My name is Charlie, I drive Edward.” Charlie began after receiving a pointed look from Sir Topham. 

“I’m Rick, I drive James.”

“Um,” Edward leaned forward a bit, unsure of how well the small device could hear him, “My name is Edward, I am a mixed traffic engine.”

“I am James, I am also a mixed traffic engine.” Looking down, James reached over and took one of Edward’s hands in his own. The blue engine startled a bit at the sudden touch, but realized it was only James and gave the hand a comforting squeeze. 

“Great.” Wes straightened in his chair and tried to inconspicuously stretch out a sore spot. Thank god this was the last interview, because he had been sitting in this chair for far too long. “Now, if you could both tell us a little bit about yourselves. A bit about your history, things you like and dislike, and such.”

“Well, I am originally from the Furness railway. I was built in 1896, and am one of Furness’ K2 class. I worked on the mainland for about twenty years before coming to Sodor to help build the Northwestern Railway.” Edward recounted. His days on the mainland seemed a lifetime ago, it was odd to think of a time before Sodor. “I run my own branch line here, between Wellsworth and Brendam docks. I like working on my branch line, that’s probably my favorite thing to do. I don’t like being left without anything to do.”

“I am originally from the Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway. I am a rebuild of one of the Class 28s.” James recounted clinically, gripping Edward’s hand tightly. He did not like remembering his past before Sodor. “I mostly pull coaches here, that’s my favorite thing to do. I don’t like pulling trucks, and I don’t like dirt.”

Wes nodded, making a few notes. It was becoming very clear to both reporters that the lives of the engines were irrevocably tied to their work. Any conversation with the engines tended to turn back to their jobs somehow. “Now, both of you worked on the mainland before coming to the island. We have heard mainland railways had policies against their engines having personal relationships. Do you have any experience with that?”

Knowing this was a sensitive topic for James, Edward elected to go first. “It wasn’t something we necessarily talked about, we just knew that it was something we weren’t supposed to do. I can remember, when I was young, there were two other engines that lived in my roundhouse. They were much older than I was, and they kept mostly to themselves. I didn’t know it at the time, but I believe that they were in love. I never had a chance to really talk to them, because not long after one of them was sent to the scrapyards and the other was transferred to a different roundhouse. I don’t know if it was due to their relationship, or just because they were out of date, but I never really forgot about it.”

And now it was James’ turn. He took a deep, steadying breath. “When I was still on the mainland, I developed. Well, a crush on another engine. My older siblings found out, and I was told quite sternly that I could never see that engine again. And that if my owner found out I would be melted down for scrap. I was also told that I must have been damaged somehow during my rebuild, because normal engines didn’t have feelings like I did. Everyone pretty much avoided me after that, and I was eventually told that my experimental rebuild wasn’t the success the railway had hoped for and I was sold to the Northwestern. I always thought that maybe the reason I was sold was because my owners had found out about my. . . problem.”

Finishing his story, James kept his eyes turned down and didn’t see the sympathetic expressions of the humans in the shed around him. Only Edward had ever heard that story, not even his driver Rick knew of James’ life before Sodor. Rick gasped and covered his mouth with his hand, resolving to be kinder to his engine from now on. 

“Thank you for telling us that, James.” Dana was honestly surprised to hear how much hostility there had been against the engines. “It will really help our story.”

“Yes, thank you James.” Wes gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He knew how hard it was to talk about something that had been internalized for so long, from personal experience. “Now, we have heard that there is a different attitude on Sodor. Can you comment on this at all?”

“In the early days, it wasn’t so different. We were very competitive, maybe even a little petty.” Well, to be honest “petty” was probably a gross understatement, but Edward didn’t want to give these people a bad impression of them. “But now, after so many years, I guess we’re more like family. There is no one in the world that I trust more than the engines and humans of this shed.”

“We have more freedom here,” James commented. “I was built to be a goods engine, intended for nothing but pulling trucks. But here, I get to pull coaches. And when I asked to be painted red, I was.”

“The engines do have more freedoms here than on mainland railways,” Sir Topham put in, “I believe that the engines should be able to have a say in what happens to them and the railway.” It had been the opinion of his father that engines worked better when they were happy, and the best way to keep the engines happy was to actually go and asked them what they wanted. Of course, that didn’t mean that the engines got to do whatever they wanted, this was still a railway and sometimes everyone had to do a job they didn’t like. 

As the interview continued on, James found himself able to relax. Now that his big admission was out, there wasn’t really anything to worry about anymore. Soon he was back to his boastful self, and Edward sat beside him with a happy smile. The blue engine didn’t necessarily enjoy listening to James’ bragging, but it was much better than having a panicky, frightened partner. 

Finally, they called it a night and packed up their things. More interviews were scheduled for the next day with some of the other engines around the island, but for now it was time to get the reporters back to their hotel. Outside the shed, Toby and Henrietta sat waiting to take them to Tidmouth station. 

“So, what do you think of our engines?” Sir Topham asked as they took seats in the small cabin of Henrietta. 

“They’re not what I expected.” Dana confessed. “They’re much more. . . alive than I anticipated. No offence, I just had assumed they’d be more. . . mechanical.”

“I am surprised by the fact that there were apparently policies in place to prevent the engines from having any kind of personal relationships.” Wes mused. It hadn’t escaped his notice that the engines hadn’t specifically said it was about being gay, apparently relationships in general were taboo. He knew the next day they were going to see a pair of engines in what humans would consider a heterosexual relationship, which was apparently just as improper as a “homosexual” one. “How did that come about?”

“Off the record?” Sir Topham sighed. It was a loaded question, and there wasn’t really an easy answer. “It’s a combination of a few different things. There is the fact that, in this country at least, we tend to consider most engines to be ‘male’, so there’s some homophobia playing a role. As well as the belief that such fraternization would distract engines from their work. But there’s more to it than that. 

“These sorts of feelings amoung engines are unusual. I have over a hundred engines across the island, and yet only eight of them have entered a romantic relationship. I am sure the numbers were even smaller on the mainland. On other railways, such things were often viewed as aberrations or build defects, something to be culled to keep productivity up. 

“To most people, locomotives are just machines. They are built to perform a certain task, and more importantly to make money for their owners. When they become too expensive to operate, or too damaged, or obsolete, then they are scrapped to make way for newer machines. A railroad, above all else, is concerned with making money. In the early days, especially, there were an incredible number of new engines being built, rolling out of factories at a rapid pace. There were also a lot of accidents. Boiler explosions, derailing, brake failures. Engines were being scrapped almost as fast as they were being built. Most engines were not destined for a long working life. 

“It was important to keep up the perception that steam engines are unfeeling pieces of metal, so that the frequent scrappings didn’t stir up any opposition. And having engines falling in love would certainly disprove the belief that their consciousness was only a facsimile of we humans.”

Both Dana and Wes looked horrified. The reporters were both thinking about what they knew about the railways on the mainland. They had at least passing knowledge of the recent modernization of the mainland railways, and were suddenly starting to see it in a new light. 

“Then. The modernization of the mainland railways?” Wes asked in a quiet voice.

Sir Topham winced, thinking of the topic always felt like a fist had wrapped around his heart. So many engines that he couldn’t save, that went off to the scrappers yard despite being perfectly fit and healthy. “The engines here are terrified of it. In the old days, they didn’t fear scrapping so much. They saw it as the sort of inevitable end, but one far off. Only engines that could no longer work were sent there. But then, the mainland started sending off engines to the scrapyards in the hundreds. Most still in perfect working condition. We have several engines here on the island that came very close to being scrapped, and were rescued from the smelters yard to be brought here to the island.”

Both reporters looked very solemn, considering everything they knew about railways with a new light. 

“Please, don’t spread around anything I told you.” Sir Topham said imploringly, “There is very little we can do about it now, steam has been replaced by diesel on nearly every railway. I have saved as many as I could, and I can ensure that here, at least, they can live a good life.”

It was a small comfort. 

 

Back in the sheds, the engines were getting settled down for the night. Everyone was abuzz about the interviews they had done that day, and the upcoming news article about them. Sam rolled his eyes as he listened to excited chatter from Thomas and Percy. Though he knew the engines were older than he was, he couldn’t help but think of the two tank engines as over-eager children. It was clear they didn’t quite understand just what was going on. 

“How are you doing, James?” Sam paused by the red engine. He hadn’t failed to notice that James had been acting rather strangely lately, even for him. 

James looked down at the human with some surprise. He wasn’t used to having drivers other than his own make casual conversation. “I’m alright. Why?”

“Well, I was thinking. Stressful day and all that, I thought maybe you and Edward might like to go to the pub.” Sam honestly enjoyed taking the engines out, they made going to the Cuff much more entertaining, and he hated the idea of them huddled up alone outside in the cold snow. 

“Edward?” James looked over to his partner. 

“Are Gordon and Henry going?” Edward asked curiously. He hadn’t planned on doing much that night, just sitting outside with James, but couldn’t deny that going to the pub would be nice. 

“They said they would if you did.”

“Okay then,” Both engines transferred to their human forms and followed the engine driver out of the shed. 

It was still early in the evening, so the bar was fairly empty when the group arrived. Music played softly from a jukebox in the corner, and most of the patrons were seated at tables or the bar drinking quietly. The group settled at a corner booth and Sam ordered up a beer for himself. 

“So, how’d your interview go?” Sam looked over to Edward and James, honestly curious. 

“I think it went alright.” Edward commented after a glance at his partner. “The reporters were very nice.”

“It was okay,” James agreed reluctantly, “I don’t like talking about my past much.”

“We’ve noticed,” Gordon looked at the red engine contemplatively, “I don’t think I’ve heard you say two words about your home railway in all the years I’ve known you.”

James grimaced. He knew, sooner or later, his friends would start asking questions. He had just hoped to put it off as long as possible. “Tell me, how well did you know your maker, Gordon? Did you like him? Was he kind?”

“Sir Nigel Gresley was a great man,” Gordon was offended that James might dare to imply otherwise. “He was greatly proud of me, his prototype for the A1 class.”

“And you, Henry?”

“I don’t really remember much of my builders,” Henry confessed. He had been very ill when he awoke for the first time, and those short weeks of his life before being sold to the Northwestern were somewhat of a blurr. “I was too sick to do much. My first clear memory is of Sir Topham giving me the name Henry as I sat in the Steamworks.”

He had expected such answers. James pursed his lips as he considered his next question, “And what of your siblings?”

“Well, I never had the chance to work alongside my siblings.” Gordon had been sold to the Northwestern not long after his building, “But I have met all of them. They are all very fine engines, credits to the name.” Gordon paused, voice growing sad, “Were fine engines. I am glad I had a chance to meet them.”

Of course, all but one of Gordon’s siblings had been scrapped in the last decade. Edward could sympathize, “I was one of a class of eight. We were close, though my siblings were perhaps a bit stuck up. For a few years, we were the largest engines on our railway. I was sad to leave them for Sodor, but I was also excited to be going someplace new.”

“I don’t really have siblings.” Henry had been one of a kind until his rebuild. “I have met a few Stanier Black Fives though, and they said they would be proud to call me an honorary sibling.”

“I’m glad you all had such happy beginnings,” James said, a trace of bitterness in his voice. “I was one of a class of 50 engines. Was. Before I was rebuilt into what I am now. My siblings hated me. Thought I was a freak. The only one to go off and be something different. And my builder couldn’t even be bothered to give me a name, or talk to me at all.”

The table was silent for a moment, taking in this information. Even Sam was speechless. He had never thought of James, of all engines, as having some kind of hidden depths.

With the admission out there, James slumped a bit in his seat. His anger was gone, replaced by a feeling of tiredness. He would be very glad when this was all over and people went back to appreciating his paintwork instead of asking him personal questions. “That’s why I don’t talk about my past.”

Sam looked around at the sad, contemplative faces of the engines and sighed. He had hoped to cheer them up by bringing them here, not depress them further. But what could he say? 

Fortunately for the engine driver, he was saved from his dilemma by some timely drag queen intervention. 

“Now, what kind of pity party is this?” Mama Tits came over and shoved in next to Sam. She wasn’t dressed up as elaborately as the engines were used to, with a simple dress and understated makeup. Still, she seemed genuinely sympathetic. “Darlings, what has you so sad?”

“Just. . . remembering the past.” Edward shook himself from his memories, one arm wrapped protectively around his partner. “And the ones we’ve lost.”

“I see, I see.” The drag queen nodded, “Just remember that you have ones here now that love you too. Now, I noticed that you lot have been making quite the headlines lately.”

Sam gasped when Mama Tits set a copy of the tabloid that had caused this whole mess on the table. He knew that all the photos in the article were too blurry for clear identification, apparently the result of cameras not taking kindly to the engines’ ghostly astral forms, so how had she guessed? “You know? But how?”

“Well, I knew something was up the moment I met you. For one, you’re at a bar but none of you drink anything. And I certainly noticed that you-“ She pointed at James, “-don’t breathe and your skin is cool to the touch. I had assumed that Sam had discovered undead gay vampires somewhere, but when I saw this article here I put two and two together.” 

Sam sighed, he should’ve been more vigilant. He was so used to the engines that he had forgotten how odd they could be to normal people. Though their astral forms looked human, get close enough to touch and the illusion was quickly broken. “Yeah, that article has caused some grief for us. We’ve spent the whole day doing interviews with some reporters, trying to get it ironed out.”

“Sounds tiring. Come now, stop looking so sad. You’re here to have fun with friends. Someone come dance with me.” Mama Tits stood up and grabbed the nearest engine, which happened to be Edward. James looked rather concerned at the sudden snatching of his partner. “Don’t worry darling, I’ll bring him back unharmed.”

“I’m. Not a very good dancer.” Edward wasn’t entirely comfortable being dragged out onto the floor by someone who wasn’t James, but was polite to a fault and didn’t pull away.

“You don’t need to be a good dancer. The idea is to enjoy yourself.” The drag queen very lightly laid her hands on his shoulders and lead him in a slow, swaying dance. “Now, you’re looking very down in the dumps tonight. Tell Mama what’s wrong?”

“Just. Been thinking about the past.” Edward admitted, “I had seven siblings and many friends on my home railway. They’re all gone now, scrapped years ago, and I’m the only one left. It’s. . . humbling to think about sometimes. That everyone in my memories is gone.”

“It’s hard to lose people, but it’s a fact of life.” Mama Tits said soothingly, “You cherish those memories of them.”

Edward nodded. He had learned of the scrapping of the last of his siblings years ago, and had come to terms with it. Sometimes, though, the memories came stronger and brought the sadness back. “I’m a little more worried about James. He had 50 siblings, and they were not very kind to him. They’ve all been scrapped, but I know sometimes their words still bother him.”

“And the best thing you can do is to be supportive, and be there for him.” Smiling, she led Edward back over to the table. “Now, let’s get you back to your man.”

James gave an undignified yelp when he was pulled up from the booth, and he suddenly found himself pressed up close against Edward. Not the worst result, admittedly. “Uh, hello.”

Edward grabbed on to James to keep himself from falling over after the sudden movements, “Hello.” He gave his partner a little kiss, “I think that was a hint that we should go dance.”

“Not all danced out yet?” James agreeably led the way back to the floor. 

“To dance with you? Never,” The music was slow and the floor uncrowded, so Edward was able to relax in his partner’s arms. “You know, I was very proud of you today.”

“For what?” James couldn’t think of anything he had done today to be proud of. Just sharing his embarrassing past. 

“For telling everyone your story. It was very brave.” 

No one had ever called James brave before. Usually, they were implying the reverse. He pulled Edward close and pressed his face into the blue engine’s shoulder, caught between laughing and crying. “Thank you.”

 

The next day, Dana and Wes were both up early to catch a train up to Ulfstead Castle. With only a week until Christmas, passenger trains were running very frequently. The Earl had all kinds of holiday decorations and events going on, so there was a local running up to the castle being pulled by Emily to supplement the mainland service pulled by Conner and Caitlin. 

Arriving at the impressive castle, the two reporters were met by Sir Robert Norramby on the platform. He would be sitting in on the interviews, instead of Sir Topham, as it was his engine being interviewed. 

“Welcome, you must be Wes and Dana,” Sir Robert enthusiastically shook their hands, “I am Sir Robert, Earl of Sodor, welcome to Ulfstead Castle. Now, you are here to talk to Stephen, he’s on his break right now so he is in the shed. If you’ll follow me.”

The shed was tucked away inside Ulfstead Castle’s towering walls, safely away from the public areas where tourists were allowed to roam. Inside, Stephen was waiting with his crew. 

“Hello,” The old engine greeted cheerfully, shifting over to his human form to hopefully make things a little easier on the reporters. “I’m Stephen. Pleased to meet you.”

Wes and Dana returned the greeting, taking seats on the chairs that had been provided. The introductions were repeated for the benefit for the tape recorder, then the interview could begin. 

“So, Stephen, is it correct that you are one of the oldest engine on the island?”

“I’m –the- oldest engine,” Stephen said with a laugh, “I’ve been around a long time. I was built in 1829, to compete in the Rainhill trials. They used to call me The Rocket back then, because I was so speedy. Of course, some things have changed since then.”

Both reporters were silent for a moment as they tried to comprehend that the person sitting in front of them was almost one hundred and fifty years old. That was a lot of history this engine must have seen. 

“Now, we’ve been speaking with the other engines about the prejudice that exists against engines having relationships.” Wes shook himself out of his thoughts and focused on the interview. “Can you tell us how things have changed from when you were built compared to now?”

“Things were a lot different when I was young,” Stephen commented, tipping his head back in thought. “We engines were still new and experimental. Builders were trying all kinds of different things, some of which worked and some which didn’t. But, most of us weren’t really considered alive by our builders, so there wasn’t much mention made of the idea of romantic relationships or anything. They were too busy coming up with new valve systems or superheaters or kinds of firetubes, and cranking out engines as fast as they could build them. I was retired from service and put into a museum in 1862, before any of the other engines on this island were even built.

“When I found out about Henry and Gordon, and later Edward and James, yes, I was surprised. I never considered in my life that engines could find love like that. But even though I don’t understand it, if they’re happy what right do I have to take that away from them?”

“Aptly put,” Wes murmured. They asked Stephen a few more routine questions, about the differences in early railway and what the Northwestern was now mostly, as well as more simple questions like what he liked to do with his free time and what his favorite job was. 

As they ended the interview and turned off the tape recorder, Stephen shifted back to his real body with a sigh of relief. He really didn’t like using the awkward, small human form even if it did make it easier to interact with people. “So, are you going to interview Caitlin and Millie after this?” He asked curiously. 

“Who?” Dana looked at their schedule of interviews, but didn’t see the two names on the list. “I don’t think so. Why?”

“Millie and Caitlin are in a relationship.” Stephen looked to Sir Robert with some surprise. “I had assumed you knew.”

The Earl’s eyes widened. How had he managed to miss that? “I hadn’t noticed that. Thank you Stephen. I’m sure Wes and Dana would love to interview them. That is if you have the time, of course?”

Wes looked at his watch, “This interview ended early, so we have some time before our next scheduled one. Are they both here?”

Sir Robert opened his watch as well, “Caitlin should arrive with her next train in about five minutes, and she’ll have half an hour downtime before she leaves again. I’ll go to the platform to meet her and have Millie summoned to the shed.”

With that the man walked out, Stephen behind him as the engine went to take his next tour around the grounds. 

A short while later, a blue narrow gauge engine carefully backed into the shed to take Stephen’s place. A very tall, muscular young woman jumped down from the cab, then turned to catch the short, slight figure that hopped out after her. They had decided it was unnecessary to go through the trouble of moving Caitlin’s large body into the shed, and so she came in her partner’s cab instead. 

“Hello, you must be Millie and Caitlin.” Dana stood to shake both their hands, hardly able to hold in her excitement. Lesbian steam engines, who would imagine? “My name is Dana, and this is Wes. We were hoping it would be alright to interview you for an upcoming article on the engines of Sodor.”

“Oh, of course.” As Caitlin had taken the only remaining chair, Millie chose to seat herself in her partner’s lap instead. They had both heard through the incredibly fast Island grapevine about the reporters and their article, “Though, we are not part of the Northwestern railway. We are both owned by the Earl.”

“That’s perfectly alright. We already interviewed Stephen.” Wes reached over to turn the tape recorder back on. “Now, let’s get started.”

The first half of the interview was fairly routine, until they discovered that both engines were from other countries and were not British. What a chance to look at railway culture from around the world. 

“Was there any regulation or rules against engines having relationships on your home railways?”

“I did not know many engines when I was young.” Millie had actually been the only engine operated by a large farm up until she was purchased by the Earl, “The farm I worked for did not have other engines, though I sometimes had a chance to talk with other engines on and off. Then the Earl bought me and brought me here to run his estate railway, which I have done ever since. I had never really thought about relationships, at least until I met Caitlin and realized that my feelings toward her were different than how I felt about other engines.”

That actually seemed to be a common answer from many of the engines they had interviewed, that the thought of entering a relationship had never even come to mind through the years of their life. Maybe Sir Topham had a point that most engines generally had no interest in it except for a small minority. 

“There was a no fraternization policy, of sorts, back on the Baltimore and Ohio.” Caitlin thought back on her days in America fondly. “But there were a lot of engines and they didn’t police us too closely about it. Some of my siblings paired off, in their own way, but my class was very grand and important and the railway didn’t do too much about it. Sometimes, though, shed assignments would get shifted around to keep couples apart. I never felt what they felt, but I know now that’s because I hadn’t met Millie yet.”

Very interesting indeed. 

After finishing up the interviews at Ulfstead, it was time to get across the island to Brendam docks to meet Sir Topham for another. They caught the local pulled by Emily once again and took it as far as Wellsworth, then transferred to one of BoCo’s trains to take them to the docks. Here, they were apparently going to sit down with a pair of Diesel engines, one named Salty and another named Mavis. These would be the first Diesels they had talked with, which would hopefully provide an interesting perspective. 

The shed at the docks was actually just a roof over a stretch of track, but after Bill and Ben had been shooed away from it there was still a measure of privacy. A pair of black diesel engines waited for them, their human forms perched on their buffer beams due to a lack of chairs. The reporters themselves sat down on some stacked crates. 

“Oh, Sir Topham,” Mavis sat up straighter when she saw the humans approach. Though she was owned by the Ffarquhar Quarry and not by the Northwestern railway, she still had a healthy respect for the portly man. “I have something very important to tell you.”

“Oh?” The Fat Controller looked at the two confused reporters, then back at the engine, “What is it, Mavis? Can it wait until after the interview?”

“I just thought you should know that Diesel is the one who told the tabloids about Henry , Gordon, Edward, and James.”

“What?!” Salty roared, looking at his partner in surprise. He didn’t spend much time at the Dieselworks, but knew as well as anyone else how much of an asshole Diesel could be. He never expected the black shunter had been behind this though. “Why that no good bilge rat! I have a mind to have him keelhauled.”

“That won’t be necessary, Salty.” Sir Topham said with a grim expression. He was deeply unhappy, but not entirely surprised. There would be serious consequences for this. “I will take care of it. Now, if we could begin with the interview? The reporters have a very busy schedule to keep.”

With Salty (mostly) calmed back down, introductions were made and the questions began. Both diesels were much, much younger than any of the steam engines that had been interviewed and didn’t have nearly as much life experience. Mavis had actually come to Sodor soon after being built and had no experience working on mainland railways at all, while Salty had mostly old sea stories and had professed not paying much attention at all to the functions and rules of his home railway. 

Both engines, however, were instant in their belief that they had nothing against the steam engines and wished them all the happiness in the world. Many diesels were caught in between their disdain for what was seen as “outdated technology” and their desire to uphold long-standing railway policies. Most would probably object to the idea of engines having relationships. But some, especially the majority of those on the island, could support it. And, in Salty and Mavis’ case, even had their own. 

Their next interview was with BoCo, who told them much the same. That Sodor was a rare place where some Diesels had been able to become friends with Steam Engines, and that even though he didn’t really understand the feelings driving his friend Edward, he wanted nothing more than to see his friend happy. It was clear that Sodor was a magical place for engines, both steam and diesel alike. 

Interviews continued on for the rest of the day with various engines across the island, mostly positive, before the reporters decided they had plenty of material for their articles and headed back for the mainland. They would be back, however, if only to see the engines again after the articles had been published. There was nothing to be done now but sit and wait, it was the job of the story writers and editors now to make a coherent story for the masses. And hopefully, it would clear up all the confusion and questions that had been flying ever since the tabloid had come out. 

And speaking of the tabloid, Sir Topham still had a punishment to figure out for Diesel. The engine’s driver had quickly found himself fired. It was obvious that Diesel, clever as he was, wouldn’t have been able to come up with the idea to send photographs and information off to a tabloid paper by himself, and the Northwestern railway had no need for someone so quick to betray the railway’s trust like that. 

Dealing with Diesel was a little more difficult. He had proved very difficult to punish in the past, for no consequence seemed to be able to deter the shunter from pulling some kind of prank or trickery for very long. For the time being, he was sentenced to work at the waste dump with Whiff. Being forced to take orders from an old steam engine would annoy Diesel to no end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if it seems a bit piecemeal, but while I really wanted to have interviews done for both plot and world building purposes, I really didn't want to write them all out in their entirety. (which not only would have taken forever, it probably would've also been very boring.) I tried to keep the stuff that was relevant either to the plot or my worldbuilding only. 
> 
> Almost to the end now, but there's still a bit more to go!


	18. Chapter 18

Though the interviews had finished, there was still plenty of work to be done on the island. Only a week until Christmas and the snow was showing no signs of stopping. Fortunately, Donald and Douglas hadn’t minded being pulled off their regular freight duties to spend all their time clearing lines instead. Extra mail runs had to be scheduled, due to the sheer amount of packages being sent, to keep all deliveries timely and make sure everyone got their presents by Christmas. This meant the engines had to get up especially early, not only to take mail but also coal deliveries to provide heat for residences across the island. 

To be honest, the article couldn’t have come out at a better time. The tabloid caused a bit of a frenzy, then the official articles came out and answered all the questions the general public had been asking. Then Christmas happened and almost everyone forgot about the issue completely. 

The articles were actually fairly well done, Sir Topham mused as he looked them both over. He had, of course, received complementary copies of both periodicals, as had everyone that had been interviewed. The Post Intelligencer had put out a more generalist story, focusing on the lives and activities of the railway’s many engines. The nature of their romantic relationships was there too, but it wasn’t the main focus of the article. 

Meanwhile, the Gay News article went much more in depth, looking over the history of rules prohibiting personal relationships through railway history and culminating in the stories of the many engines that had been interviewed. Still, it was all written very respectfully and Sir Topham thought the engines and crews would be proud of the result. 

Though it was normal for the mail to increase greatly this time of year, what with all the Christmas cards and packages being sent to friends and family, Tidmouth Station was still receiving a surprising number of letters. Nearly all were in response to the articles. Sure, there were letters from the bigots condemning the railway to hell for their sins, but Sir Topham didn’t pay them any mind as he tossed them in the wastepaper basket. 

Most of the letters, however, were showing their support. The amount of positivity was actually a little overwhelming. The Gay News must have a wider circulation than he realized, because many of the letters were from the publication’s readers. Some even thanked the Railway for their show of support for the gay community and stated they intentioned to vacation on the island for the summer. That would be an unexpected side effect of the articles, the railway owner thought with amusement; a sudden influx of gay tourism.

Christmas was a day of rest across the island. December 25th was the one day of the entire year when no trains ran on Sodor. The crews went to spend the day with their families, while the engines were able to stay in their warm sheds. With their fire boxes cold and no steam in their boilers, this was a very lazy day for the engines. Many chose simply to sleep the day away, others kept to quiet chatter. They had only a short 24 hours before work resumed once more. 

Things were much the same at Tidmouth Sheds, with the quiet marred only by the quiet cough Henry had managed to pick up. One of the drivers had made a joke about pneumonia, and the green engine had subsequently had a small panic attack about it. Which had, of course, only worsened his cough and given him a sneeze to go with it. Now, he was covered in soot and rather miserable. It was probably just a build-up in his soot box, as sometimes happened to him, and he would just need to go to the Steamworks the next day for a thorough cleanout. As Gordon kept reminding him while the two sat in the back corner of the shed and he held Henry in his arms. 

Edward and James had decided to go outside, since their human forms didn’t feel the cold and a fresh layer of snow had fallen the night before. The world outside the shed was a white wonderland, unmarred by footprints or tracks. The only sounds were the soft plops of snow falling from the branches of trees around the shed. 

“I hope Henry will be alright.” Edward murmured, thinking of how absolutely miserable the green engine had sounded. At least now Henry had someone to sit with him instead of just getting teased mercilessly when he got sick. 

James snorted, “He’ll be fine. You know this happens to him all the time. I don’t know why he still makes such a big deal out of it.”

Edward sighed, unsurprised at James’ unsympathetic response, but still a bit disappointed. He was still working with James about being less rude to others. “You know how he worries about these things. I don’t really blame him, remember back before his rebuild when the Fat Controller threatened to replace him?”

That had been a long time ago, and of course the other engines hadn’t felt too much sympathy then either. But James still did remember the sad look on Henry’s face those days when he just couldn’t build up steam pressure. And, maybe he did feel a little bad for how he had treated the green engine. Henry couldn’t help being sick, after all. “Still, he knows we can’t catch human diseases, right? I mean, after that ridiculous chicken pox thing.”

That had, admittedly, been over the top even for Henry. A combination of bad timing and some odd coincidences had worked the green engine up into a panic. “I’m sure he realizes that, but sometimes fears are irrational. You know that monsters don’t exist.”

James stiffened at that. If it had been anyone else reminding him of his fear of monsters and ghosts, he would’ve protested mightily. As it was, he still didn’t like the implication. He looked away with a displeased grumble, watching a few small birds flit about the trees around sheds. The worst part was that he knew Edward was right. 

That was perhaps a bit of a low blow, but Edward was honestly tired of all the teasing that often flew around the shed. It never caused anything but trouble and always made the recipient miserable. Edward pressed closer to his partner, “You know, I don’t think any less of you for being scared of something. And nor should anyone else.”

He knew that too, but somehow it didn’t help much. 

 

The next day, everyone was up early to get back to work. Boxing day was always a busy one, with lots of people heading home after Christmas, or trying to go out to catch some shopping deals. Passenger service would continue to be running at peak capacity through New Years before settling back down into the usual winter slump. Which, of course, meant it was the perfect time for Henry to break down. 

Sir Topham sighed and rubbed at his temples as he looked over the day’s schedules. He couldn’t really blame the green engine, it wasn’t his fault he had been designed with serious defects. The rebuild had ironed out his worst issues, but he still suffered more frequent mechanical trouble than most of the other engines did. As it was, Henry would be spending the day at the Steamworks and someone else would be needed to pull his passenger train. 

The problem was that there really wasn’t anyone else. Henry was one of the strongest engines on the island, more powerful than even Gordon, though he didn’t quite have the blue engine’s great speed. As it was, the only other engines with enough pulling power to take his train were already busy with their own. He did, however, have one other option, even if he didn’t like it. 

Activity at Tidmouth sheds was just picking up when Sir Topham Hatt arrived to hand out a few schedule changes. Emily had moved from her stall and was being coupled up to Henry to take the poor engine to the steam works, while everyone else was getting their steam up for the day. 

“Good morning engines.”

“Good morning, sir,” the engines chorused back. 

“Now, as you can see, Henry will not be going out today. So I will need other engines to cover his passenger runs. James, Edward, you will need to go pick up the coaches from Knapford in one hour. Daisy will be taking your train today, James. Everyone else, it is business as usual. You will all being going in for a fresh coat of paint after New Years in reward for all your hard work this winter.”

“Wait, me?” Edward looked over at his owner in shock, unsure if he had heard right. “Are you sure?”

“Yes Edward, I’m sure.” Sir Topham stepped down from the crate he was standing on and came closer to the old engine. After much thought and consideration, having Edward and James double-head to pull Henry’s train was the easiest solution. They had taken passenger trains together before, though it had been a number of years, and he knew they worked together well. “I know I told you not to pull coaches before your bandages were taken off, and I know it’s still dark out, but this is an unusual situation and I need you and James to fill in for Henry. I would like you and James to run coupled up, at least until daylight, just to make sure nothing happens.”

“I- yes sir,” Edward really wasn’t sure about this, in the predawn gloom he was completely sightless and the sun would not be up for hours yet. At least he would be working with James. 

Another worry surfaced as they picked up the coaches and arrived at the station. Normally Edward wasn’t too particular about what he looked like, as long as he was relatively clean and didn’t have any visible rust spots, but now he was highly aware of his appearance as they stopped at the crowded station platform. With one scarred eye blinded by cataracts and the other covered in a blue tarpaulin to keep the snow off he probably made quite the sight. He couldn’t really see the people on the platform, but they were probably staring at him. Maybe they didn’t want to be pulled around by a damaged engine like him. 

James was blissfully unaware of his partner’s emotional turmoil as he proudly sat at the head of the train, his red paint glinting in the faint pre-dawn light. He always loved the first run of the morning, before there had been time for dust and dirt to settle on his frame. 

The red engine kept a watchful eye on the passengers as they milled about on the platform and boarded the coaches. A few were looking at the engines, most with the usual expressions of vague interest or curiosity, but James could see one teenage boy standing closer than the others. A railfan perhaps, who wanted to try and catch the attention of the driver?

The boy seemed to make a decision, as he stood up straighter and marched up to the front of the engine, “Excuse me, are you James?”

“Yes, that’s me,” James was rather taken aback. It was very unusual indeed for a random passenger on the platform to strike up a conversation with one of the engines. 

“My name is Joey. I read that news article that they put out a few days ago,” The teen fidgeted and picked at his hands as he tried to keep up his courage, “I just wanted to thank you. I read that story, the one that you told, and. It inspired me to ask out the guy I have a crush on. And he said yes! So, um, thank you.”

“Um, you’re welcome?” James looked on with some confusion as Joey scurried off, apparently having said his piece. 

Behind James, Edward was having his own unusual encounter with humans on the platform. As he sat, a young sounding voice asked from somewhere near him, “What is that on your face?”

Edward looked around, but couldn’t see anything beyond a black fuzzy shape. It sounded like a little girl, though, possibly being held in someone’s arms judging by the height of the figure near him. He didn’t like that someone had noticed his tarp, but he also couldn’t deny the attention of a child. “I was in a crash and got hurt. This covers my bandages so they don’t get wet.”

“Oh no!” The little girl gasped. “When I get hurt, my mommy kisses it better. Then it doesn’t hurt so much!”

Her mother rolled her eyes indulgently, but stepped closer so that her daughter could lay her little hands on Edward’s cheek and give him a quick smooch. Then, with a final “hope you feel better!” the little girl and her mother went and boarded one of the coaches. 

Edward had turned bright red at the attention, but couldn’t deny that the kiss did make him feel a little better. Not physically, for his injuries didn’t really hurt when sitting undisturbed like this, but emotionally he worried a little less about the people staring at him. Kisses makes people feel better, he would have to remember that one. 

Leaving the station, Edward settled into a comfortable rhythm behind James. It was rather intimidating to be running along the rails completely blind, but the steady tug on his front coupling reminded him that James was there with him leading the way. It was also nice to pull coaches again, they didn’t laugh at or tease him, and they didn’t jerk at their couplings to try and shove engines off the rails. 

Stopping at stations was another pleasant part of pulling passenger coaches, allowing a chance to rest and maybe receive some appreciative looks from the humans waiting. Sometimes there were even trainwatchers, who wanted to take their photos and talk to the crews. 

Today, though, Edward and James experienced something new. People talking to them. Not to their crews, not at them, but to them. Usually it was just a “hello” or “good morning” but sometimes they got congrats on the article that had come out and casual questions. Other people offered Edward their well wishes and expressed their hope that he would feel better soon. It was rather overwhelming. For everyday passengers to actually stop and talk to the engines was very rare indeed. It seemed that the article had done its job, encouraging the islanders to get to know the engines as intelligent, unique beings rather than unfeeling machines. 

Still riding high from the experience, Edward found himself whistling a merry tune the next day as he dropped off a goods train at the Wellsworth marshalling yards and prepared to settle down for a bit of a rest.

At the same time, Duck came into the yard with his own train to exchange it for the one that Edward had just left. Upon seeing just who was working in the yard that day, Duck froze in his tracks. Just the engine he had been trying to avoid. 

Duck tried to work quietly, hoping he wouldn’t be noticed, but Edward caught the sound of another engine and looked around with a frown.

“Hello?” Edward couldn’t see anything but a fuzzy green shape. It couldn’t be BoCo, the diesel didn’t make the distinctive chuffing sound of a steamie. “Henry? Is that you?”

Welp. That hadn’t worked. “No, Edward. It’s me.” Duck sighed and moved away from his trucks to pick up the other train.

“Oh.” The disappointment in Edward’s voice was possibly the most painful thing Duck had ever heard. “Hello, Duck.”

“Look, Edward. There’s – there’s something I need to say. To you.” Duck took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. What I said to you was uncalled for. And if the Fat Controller has no reason to object to your relationship, than neither do I.” 

Once again, Edward was caught not knowing what to say. “Uh, well, thank you, Duck.”

“Right.” Not quite the reception Duck had hoped for, but at least Edward didn’t seem too angry. “I’ll just go then. I’ll see you later, Edward.”

“Goodbye, Duck.” Edward wasn’t too sure what to think. It was nice that Duck had apologized, but it didn’t quite erase the hurt that his earlier statement had caused. 

Soon afterward, another green shape rolled into the yards. This one, however, was accompanied by the low rumble of a diesel engine. Presumably, it was BoCo coming in to rest after finishing his morning passenger run. 

“Hello, Edward.” BoCo smiled and backed up onto a siding near the blue engine. “Did I just see Duck leaving? Did he say something to you again?”

“Nothing bad.” Edward reassured, “He wanted to apologize for what he said about me and James. I guess, since the Fat Controller doesn’t object he doesn’t have a reason to either. “

“You know, I think maybe he was just jealous.” BoCo commented, thoughtful, “Duck has always had a bit of a crush on you.”

“What?!” Edward looked over at the diesel engine with surprise. Duck liked him in that way? Since when? Was Edward really just that oblivious? “What gives you that idea?”

“I realize I haven’t known him as long as you. But anyone can see that he’s sweet on you. I’ve seen how he defends you against the others, and he’s much nicer to you than he is to anyone else.”

This was true. Edward could well remember when Duck had first arrived on the island and the green tank engine had stood up against the others in defense of Edward. Had Duck really been romantically motivated, or was it just friendship?

Later that evening, Edward mentioned BoCo’s observation to James. He wasn’t quite sure how the red engine would react, but wanted his partner’s insight. 

To his surprise, James just shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, that’s no surprise. I always thought that Duck liked you more than the others. He was probably just jealous. But he’s too late.” James wrapped his arms securely around Edward to emphasis his point. 

“Yes, he is.” Edward smiled in agreement. “Duck is nice, but I don’t think he and I would work well together. He’s a bit . . .”

“Uptight?” James suggested, “A stick in the mud? A rules-obsessed tightwad?”

“-too proper.” Edward finished, “I know the others think I’m boring, but I do like a bit of excitement every once in a while. It’s nice that he stood up for me but, I just don’t like him in that way.”

James sighed. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been the one to call out the others on their teasing, instead of joining in.”

“It’s okay, James. I understand. And I don’t blame you for what you did in the past.” Yes, it had hurt. But Edward knew that James had been just as hurt and confused back then. “I’m just glad to have you now.”


	19. Chapter 19

It was the day before New Year’s Eve, and all the engines were dreadfully excited. The Earl was holding a huge fireworks display at the castle, and visitors would be coming from all over to attend. All the engines bringing passengers to the castle would also get to watch the display, and the subject was the talk of the sheds.

Once again, Edward was disappointed. He would be sitting alone in the shed while everyone was out enjoying the party. Just three more days until he got his bandages off, but those three days seemed like forever.

As he pulled his last passenger train for the day, James’ thoughts were with his partner. He would, of course, be pulling coaches up to the castle the next night for the party, but he didn’t like the idea of leaving Edward in the shed. Everyone else at Tidmouth would be at the party, which meant the blue engine would be alone all evening, until after the display was done. That was no way to spend New Year’s.

Pulling into Tidmouth station, James had a sudden idea. Sir Topham was standing on the platform, checking in on the engines as they finished up their work day, and came over towards James as the red engine came to a stop.

“Sir?” James looked over to his owner as passengers began to disembark, “Could I ask you something, about tomorrow night?”

“Yes, James?” Sir Topham always got a little worried when James, of all engines, wanted to talk to him about something, but was willing to listen.

“Can Edward double-head my passenger train with me tomorrow night?”

“It’s your normal run of coaches, James.” The Fat Controller frowned, “You don’t need any help pulling them, and I don’t like having Edward run after dark right now.”

“But. It’s New Year’s, sir. And Edward would be all alone at the sheds. I just. . . don’t like to think about him spending New Year’s alone. Sir.” James was getting a little worked up just at the thought. “If. If he can’t come up to the castle with me. I’d rather stay at the shed with him. Sir.”

To say Sir Topham was surprised was an understatement. –James- was refusing to pull passengers? James, who hated pulling trucks and constantly bragged about his coach-pulling ability? This could be seen by some as a sign of the engine’s relationships interfering with their work, but to be honest Sir Topham was mostly impressed to see James thinking about someone besides himself. Putting another engine’s well-being before his own desires. It really wasn’t something he ever thought he’d see.

“Well. . .” Edward and James –had- proved that they were capable of working together safely, even in the dark, when they had taken Henry’s train. “Alright. I’ll talk with Edward’s crew and have you double-head with him tomorrow night. Just be careful, I expect you to look out for him. Alright?”

“Oh thank you, sir!” A huge smile broke across James’ face. He couldn’t wait to get back to the shed and tell Edward the good news.

The next night, Edward could barely contain his excitement as he and James picked up their passengers. He couldn’t believe that James had convinced the Fat Controller to let him attend the party at the castle. Now, he would get to spend the holiday celebrations not only with his partner, but at a party with all their friends. He had already rewarded James with lots of kisses, but had plenty more to give out that night during the fireworks.

Things were already getting crowded at the castle, and track space was at a premium. Coaches were all shunted over into sidings outside to make more room for the engines themselves on the tracks with good views of the party. Edward and James were sandwiched between Henry and Gordon in front, and Thomas behind. Fortunately, though, the little chatterbox seemed to be intent on running around with Percy instead of bothering the larger engines.

“Wow.” Edward breathed as James helped him step down from his cab. He couldn’t see much, but he could tell that there were hundreds of people all around at the castle grounds. It was more humans than he had seen in one place in a long time. It was actually a bit overwhelming just how many people were here surrounding them.

“That is a lot of people,” James agreed. Most were walking around with blankets and folding chairs, trying to stake out a choice bit of ground to watch the fireworks from. Soon, there wouldn’t be a single square inch of grass or stone visible anywhere on the castle grounds. People were even getting fairly close to the engines, though their drivers made sure to keep them at a safe distance. Wouldn’t do to frighten someone with a sudden release of steam during the show.

“So. Where do you want to sit?” Edward wanted to watch the show in his human form, so that he’d be able to cuddle with James, but didn’t particularly want to spend the evening awkwardly perched on his buffer beam.

James frowned and looked around, then glanced back up at his body. “Wait. I have an idea.” He led Edward over to his cab and helped him step up, then scrambled up onto his tender.

“Uh,” Edward looked up at his partner, who was kneeling in the supply of coal and reaching a hand back down for him. “I’m not sure I can-“

“Sure you can. Just take my hands.” James took both of Edward’s hands and with a tug pulled him up onto the coal pile with him. One of the fun things about their human forms was that they were both lighter and stronger than real humans.

The two slowly stood on the uneven, shifting surface and found their balance. Carefully, James stepped across to the roof of his cab and reached back to help Edward across as well. The blue engine really didn’t like climbing around like this while he was completely blind, but trusted his partner not to let him fall. It did help, of course, that he knew he couldn’t be hurt like this.

“Just a bit more.” James positioned Edward in front of him, keeping a tight grip on the blue engine’s shoulders as they clambered out onto the curved surface of James’ boiler and sat down. Now, James’ back was pressed against the bulge of his firebox with Edward’s back against his front. A normal human wouldn’t be able to handle sitting up here, with the intense heat put off by the metal of his boiler and firebox, but they didn’t feel it. “Now, we’ll have the best seats for the show.”

“As long as I don’t have to climb back down from here,” Edward joked, taking up James’ hands in his own as he leaned back. He had to admit, this was an excellent place to sit. There was a clear view of the night sky, and being so high up meant that hopefully they wouldn’t be bothered.

The people on the ground below settled into their chosen spots as midnight approached, and over some kind of speaker system a voice announced “one minute to midnight!”

A hush fell over the crowd as everyone waited with bated breath, and then someone started a countdown. The entire crowd joined in with much enthusiasm, yelling out the numbers. “FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE!”

As the cry of “HAPPY NEW YEAR” rang across the castle grounds the first firework exploded in the sky above with a bone-shaking boom. The Earl had spared no expense on the display, and the fireworks painted a beautiful display of light and color across the dark night sky.

Edward gasped as the smears of color lit up the blackness above. If only he had been able to get his bandages off beforehand, he would have been able to truly enjoy the display in its full glory. But for now, he would be content with what he had. “It’s beautiful.” He breathed into James’ ear. “Oh, I wish I could see it better.”

“I’m sorry,” James immediately felt guilty, dragging Edward all the way out to attend a fireworks show that he probably couldn’t even see. “I didn’t even think-“

Before James could get any further, Edward cut him off with a kiss. Not a quick one either, as Edward pressed on until James relaxed and reciprocated. The nice thing about not needing to breathe in these forms was the ability to go on for quite a while. It was clear that reassurances weren’t doing much to help James, so Edward was determined to show him without words how he felt. He didn’t blame James for his injuries in the slightest, though he knew that the red engine would probably never truly be able to believe it.

The grand finale exploded overhead, the kind of all-encompassing boom that felt like a fist wrapped around your very soul. There was the briefest moment of silence as the last firework faded away before the entire castle grounds erupted into cheers. Engines still in their bodies blew their whistles, while the rest joined in with the hooting and hollering. With one final kiss, Edward and James went back to their respective bodies to fetch their coaches and take everyone back to their homes for the night.

 

Two days later found Edward sitting in a stall in the back of the Steamworks. He was almost quivering with excitement and nervousness, for it was finally time for him to get his bandages removed. The momentous occasion had been delayed slightly until James had a break from his duties, for Edward had insisted on his partner being there with him. It was maybe a little sappy, but he wanted James to be the first thing he saw. Fortunately, the workers at the Steamworks had been happy to oblige.

The lights in the back of the works had been dimmed to their lowest setting, with just enough light for the workers to see what they were doing.

“Okay Edward, let us know if you start feeling any pain.” The works foreman instructed as the workers slowly began to peel back the top corner of his bandage.

Edward winced and grit his teeth, but the expected pain did not come. Just the slightly irritating tingle of the medical tape being tugged off. As the bandage was rolled back, the exposed part of his face felt uncomfortably cold. Again, not painful, just the consequence of suddenly allowing cold air to touch his skin after two months of it being covered.

Hank looked approvingly up at Edward as the gauze was removed, keeping a sharp eye out for any area still burned or damaged. There was still a slight discoloration where the burns had been, but it was only really noticeable if one knew what they were looking at. Otherwise, he appeared completely healed.

“Alright, Edward. Go slowly now, and you can open your eye.”

Here it was, the moment of truth. Edward well remembered the pain that had resulted the month before when his bandage had come off in the hailstorm, and this made him very cautious as he slowly cracked his eye open and squinted in the dim light.

Even that small amount of light was almost too much, and Edward squeezed his eye shut again. He was emboldened, though, by the absence of any stabbing pain. After a moment he gathered the courage to open his eye again. Blinking a bit to clear his vision, he waited for the dark shapes to clear. And, miracle of miracles, they did. Things came into focus until he could make out the group of humans standing around him and James on the track facing him. But it wasn’t enough to really see anything beyond their outlines.

“Are you alright?” Hank waited for a cry of pain that didn’t come. From what he could see, the blue engine’s eye appeared to be back to normal.

“Y-yeah. I can kind of see, is it supposed to be this dark?” Edward thought someone had mentioned the lights were going to be turned low, but he was worried that this darkness was a result of impaired vision instead.

“Yes, we turned the lights down. You haven’t seen anything out of that eye in four months, we can’t just immediately expose it to the overheads.” Hank turned to one of the other workers. “You can start turning the lights back up now, but slowly.”

The worker obeyed and the lights began to inch their way back to full intensity. Things gradually became more clear, colors regaining their vivid hues and shapes finding sharp definition.

Finally, after months of squinting and frustration, Edward was able to truly see James’ face. He had almost forgot what the red engine looked like, after so long. Edward’s face broke into a genuine smile, and he laughed even as tears welled up in his freshly uncovered eye.

“I can see, James!” Edward cried happily as the lights reached their full brightness. “I can see!”

The laughter was infectious and James found himself crying as well. He wanted nothing more than to embrace his partner and kiss his tears away, but the workers insisted on doing a few tests first. Until then, James would simply have to sit and enjoy being able to see all of his partner’s smiling face instead of just half of it.

Edward put up with the tests with his usual patience, and finally Hank declared that he had fully recovered his vision. Sure, he still had one bad eye, but Edward would rather only be able to see from one eye than not being able to see at all. Finally, life would be going back to normal.

Or, well, mostly back to normal, Edward thought as he looked over to James. Some things had definitely changed for the better. “I think this is the start of a wonderful New Year.”

EDIT: Now with art!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for this fanfic, folks! Thank you to everyone who has left kudos, commented, or sent messages. This has officially been the longest thing I have ever written, I never expected this dumb idea I had to go this far. 
> 
> . . . rest assured that I do have ideas for another two fanfics to follow after this one, at least. A sequel will probably be up and going in the next week or so. It appears there is no escape from this fandom.


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